


The sound of guilt

by Dino_Cattivo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-09 14:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dino_Cattivo/pseuds/Dino_Cattivo
Summary: After his fight with Zod, Clark lost the ability to keep his powers under control. Forced to live as Clark Kent to reduce the chances of hurting somebody while using his powers as superman, Clark is suffering. While constantly being overcome by to many sensations, he got convinced to attend a gala. Here he meets Bruce Wayne and everything suddenly goes quiet.





	1. The gala

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope it is understandable. I'm not that good at english but I thought I would write a fanfic in the language anyway for fun and to try out different things. I tried to get as much mistakes out as possible so I hope you get what I wanted to say.  
> It is proofreaded by [Kira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_Katashi/profile)

There was the rhythmical clicking of keys being pressed, soft conversations and a subtle shuffling of feet filling the reporters room of the Daily Planet. Clark softly hummed while reading over the draft of his latest article and was quit pleased how his piece had turned out. It was nothing big, after coming back from his leave of sickness, Perry only assigned him to small articles, like this one about the recent rise in rent prices. But Clark was more than fine with it. He didn't really know if he was ready to be confronted with the pressure of a big headline article.

 

Just as he began to correct some errors, the TV on one of the pillars next to his desk switched to the news. Clark could feel his miss a beat as he saw a picture of himself on the screen. Well not himself directly but Superman. Ever since the events with Zod he couldn't stand the symbol of the house of El anymore. It reminded him to much of the brutal fight and the life he had to take in order to end the nightmare he was trapped in.

 

He could sill feel the pressure giving away under the strong force of his hands with a deafening crack and hear the panicked heartbeat suddenly come to an abrupt stop. Aside from that, he could also remember the ear-piercing and high screaming of terror from the innocent people getting caught up int the fight not able to get away or even having a chance to save their lives. On top of that was the loud crashing noises of collapsing buildings, burying people under them, and the yellow flames stretching into the sky all around him.

 

He quickly avoided his gaze in fear but it was already to late to avoid the damage. He could feel a headache starting to act up and a burning pressure constantly building up behind his eyelids. This left him with no other option beside keeping them closed to protect himself against the now way too bright sunlight. He awkwardly stumbled to his feed, nearly kicking his chair over in the process. On his hasty way out of the room he did nearly run into a shocked Lois and wobbled dangerously until he found his balance again and continued his escape.

 

Even with his eyes half closed he could still see her worried face but he really had no time to think any deeper about what sorrow he caused and how he could soothe her alarmed mind. When he finally managed to reach the broom closet with some struggle, he then heavily sank down behind the closet and looked door and desperately tried to get his hectic breathing under control. But it was no use.

 

The noises around him just got louder and louder and seemed to overwhelm him completely. Voices of dozens and dozens of people crashed down on him and drowned nearly everything else out. He could clearly hear Lois making up some excuses for his sudden absence, Perry ordering around Jimmy in his loud voice and Cat gossiping about the party yesterday evening. But he could also hear random strangers walking on the street, the noisy cars driving with squeaking tires, rattling trains, rushed footsteps, angry barking and honking. But it only got louder and louder the longer he sat there in the dark. And it didn't stop. It just didn't stop.

 

When the crushing wave of noise finally started to calm down a bit, another headache worst than the one before hit him with full force and brought with it nauseous felling.

He curled in on himself as tightly as he could and sobbed quietly. Not that it ever helped to cry - he had enough chances to test it - but he just couldn't keep it together anymore. He just felt so miserable and so very alone.

 

He didn't want anything more beside going home to Smallville and throw himself in the waiting arms of his mother. He missed her so much even though he had just seen her last weekend when she visited him. But right now he couldn't go on without her support. Her just telling him everything is going to be fine and he will be OK helped him to go on more than he could describe. However without being able to use the ability to fly in his current condition it suddenly became a lot harder to meet his mom.

 

He pinched his eyes even harder together when another tide of sickness overcame him and he felt like vomiting. A small whimper escaped his cracked lips when he was able to see the people in the rooms under him despite his closed eyes. The colors were distorted and the focus of his x-ray vision jumped around wildly, switching between muscle and bones making his vision blurr.

When this attack didn't stop or seem to weaken after nearly an hour had passed his sobs transformed into pathetic weeping and hot tears streamed down his face while he had no other chance than to wait and hope it will at some point come to an end.

 

 

Clark didn't manage to return to work this day. He actually didn't really remember how long he had stayed curled up in the broom closet and how he managed to get home afterwards. The first clear recollection was waking up on the soft pillow in his apartment. Although he should properly thank Lois for it the next time he sees her, she had properly explained the situation to Perry and got him home and into his bed just because she was awesome like this. And for this he was really grateful to have her as his best friend.

 

Even if things didn't work out between them and Lois instantly turned him down after she found out he was Superman despite her well known crush, they were closer than ever before. He really couldn't feel resentful for how things had turned out, being given valid reasons and still having her so close afterwards. She just didn't think it was possible for them to date with him being Superman. And he could understand. They were different not only biologically and she claimed she would always want him for herself, but one couldn't simply posses the Superman. He was to good in his efforts to help everyone. She didn't want to hold him back and stop him from doing what he really wanted so she let him go, showing how deeply she cared about him.

 

At first he was totally heartbroken, naturally. But he quickly adjusted, began to really understand and things really started to look up again. He even started thinking about dating again. Went out more and talked to people in hope to meet someone special.

 

But then Zod happened. If it was hard to find somebody before the events, with most likely having to hide his identity for safety and suddenly vanishing at any giving time; it was impossible now. He had too much emotional garbage coming with him and was still not able to talk about it - not even with his mother or Lois. The attacks happened as recently as in the beginning, despite his desperate hopes they would abate with time. He wouldn't want to put anybody in the spot to have to deal with that. He know how much of a emotional train wreck he must be right now.

 

When he finally managed to reach the Daily Planet, he was out of breath and he already felt spend. He wiped his sweat soaked hair out of his feverishly hot face and loosed his first few buttons to get more air into his lungs. It was still strange to be so human. So vulnerable. He normally could throw cars without breaking a sweat but now the smallest action like working to work cause dhim trouble. But he already started to get used to having to adjust and planned ahead by scheduling in way more time than he needed in case he suddenly feel weak.

 

His reflection in the glass of Perry's door looked sickly and worn out. His eyes were deeply sunken in and large bags were under his eyes, his skin was a unnatural white tone expect his bright red cheeks, he posture was even more slumped then usual and his hair had lost its natural shimmer. But the worst were his eyes. The usual so bright sky blue orbs were clouded, dull and puffy from crying.

He quickly averted his eyes, not able to look at himself anymore and entered the office after a short knock.

 

He coughed awkwardly when his voice just didn't come out right and tried again. It was still rough and scratchy but he could talk: „I'm sorry for vanishing yesterday, Perry. It will try to not let it happen again, if I can.“

 

He didn't make any promises, knowing he would most likely not be able to keep them in his condition, even if he wanted to.

Perry examined him for a long time before answering, like he was debating what he wanted to say. Finally, after taking a deep breath, he spoke: „ Are you really sure you should be back at work already? Don't take this personal Kent, but you look really awful. Why don't you go back home and rest?“

 

Clark let slip a prolonged sigh. If staying in bed would help make it any better he would be a blessed man. But he already tested it for a couple of days and it didn't help at all. Actually exactly the opposite was the case, the longer he stayed inside, alone and in silence, the worse he got.

He tried to explain this the best way he could to Perry, without letting slide what his problem honestly was.

 

At first Perry looked genuinely confused but than his eyes lighted up brightly and he had a understanding smile on his face. He gave Clark a comforting clap on his back.

„I know Kent, women can be like a curse. If she truly is able to make you feel this awful, she must have been an astonishing girl but there are other fishes in the big sea. You will get over her eventually and find the right one. On this note, did I ever tell you the story about this girl I had a thing for when I was still working as assistant?“

 

With this Perry launched into an half hour rant about his younger days. But Clark actually didn't mind. The normality in this was kind of calming and when he finally left the office and returned to his desk, he not only felt better but also had a small smile on his lips.

On his desk he found some cheap chocolate. A gift properly left there by Jimmy. Now he felt bad for worrying his friend like this but it was nice to see people still care about him.

 

When a cup of steaming coffee appeared in his field of vision, the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Thanks, Lo. You are the best“, he said.

He got an annoyed huff for an answer: „Natural I'm Smallville.“

 

However she got serious again in the next moment, „But really Clark, are you OK? You look like shit and you were barely conscious yesterday. Are you sure there is nothing I can help you with?“

Clark rubbed his neck in embarrassment and could feel his face turning a slight pink color. So he was right about Lois truly being the one to ensured he came home safely yesterday.

 

„I'm as good as I'm gonna get. But I just can't stay at home anymore all by myself. It drives my insane. I'm so sorry for causing you trouble but I'm really grateful for your help.“  
She just shook her head and signaled to him it was totally fine. After working together for so long they got really good at reading each others body language. Knowing exactly what ticked the other off and how to act according to the little pointers, which were so easy to notice for them.

 

Just as she was about to continue their conversation, someone in the office turned up the volume on the news: “There is still no information about Superman's whereabouts. After the disastrous fight with General Zod, which left immense damage to the city, he mysteriously vanished. There are many speculations and theory's. But we can't be sure at this point with the little amount of clues we have.

 

Is he injured or even death, we don't know. Or does he just hide from humanity because of the brutal actions on of his own kind force him to commit? But we do know at this point about the terrible earthquake yesterday evening in the south of Hawaii. And we do know about the 23 people, who are already confirmed death and the number is steadily rising. A number, which could be deftly smaller if Superman had made a appearance at the scene. So where is our hero now I our time of need?“

 

As the news continued on the volume got turned down again. Lois looked back at Clark's now definitely hurt face. She held his hand in a comforting gesture.

„You realize, it is not your fault. There is nothing you could have done with things being like they are right now.“

 

„I know. I really do, Lo“, he took her hand in his and felt for her pulse, looking for some comfort he normally could get by simply listening. It was always calming to hear the proof of an important person being alive and well. It really unsettled him whenever he tried to reach out for his mother or Lois now but his powers betrayed him and there was nothing expect random mingled noises.

„However, it doesn't get easier. I just want to help. Knowing I could save them but neglecting to do so is kills me inside.”

 

He clenched his fist roughly but instantly let go again as he noticed he was now crushing Lois hand, yet she didn't even flinch.

She looked deeply in thoughts for a few moments and start speaking very softly, really careful just as if she was afraid to scare him away with her words: “Maybe you should go out, see something else and meet people. I need to attend Lex's gala tomorrow evening I need to cover for an article but I'm allowed to bring a plus one. Yes, I know it is normally not something you would do but maybe it would help. You don't have to but I would be happy if you came with me.”

 

His first instinct was to firmly refuse. He hated social gatherings like this. Places where everyone acted overly friendly with each other but gossiped behind each others back. Everyone was so superficial there, only making petty small-talk or boast about some lame achievements and money. Normally he did try to dodge interviews at such events and let other reporters go. But Lois was right, again. What did he have to loose? He had already hit rock bottom. If he really collapsed at the event, he at least could blame it one the alcohol and he would never have to see any of the rich society again.

 

Slowly he nodded and Lois had a relieved smile on her face as if she had still waited for a negative reaction.

“Perfect, I will bring you some nice clothes as fast as I can. You have absolutely no fashion sense, Clark. Flannel? Really, we are not on a farm anymore”, she teased and returned to her own desk.

 

Lois made good on her promise: the next day he found a box with formal clothes in his apartment. She must have used her key to let herself in while he was still at work. She had insisted on having one when she found out about his episodes so she could check in on him without having to break the lock again like when she found him passed out on his kitchen floor.

 

He couldn't say how exactly it had happened but one minute he was cleaning like usual and in the next moment he stared up to Loise's worried face. She told him afterward she had wanted some intel on a story but he didn't answer his phone all day. When she finally came over to check in on him she had seen him laying there on the floor and forced her way inside.

 

He slowly turned in front of the mirror again mustering the tight fit of the suit. He suddenly felt very self-aware. There was no really point in hiding his muscles with no Superman in the world to be compared. But he just couldn't get used to the way the clothes clung to his frame after making sure to always buy his clothes two sizes too big. He missed his comfortable flannel shirts and his too big jacket to snuggle in. But the suit was a present from Lois and despite him feeling uncomfortable he had to admit it actually looked kinda nice and did a good job in hiding how much weight he lost in the last couple of weeks. He almost looked healthy like this.

 

A look he didn't had since Zod. He truly wanted to eat more but most days he didn't have any form of appetite and if he tried to force himself to eat it just wouldn't stay down for long. So at some point he just gave up and eat something small whenever he could.

He adjusted his glasses one last time, just to be safe, before grabbing his keys and wallet. He went outside just as Lois halted in front of his house in a taxi she had insisted on picking him up with.

 

The gala was packed with people and Clark felt suffocated immediately. He looked helplessly over to Lois but only got a reassuring smile in return. They only stepped through the door a few moments ago but there were already many desiring looks directed at Lois. No wonder, she looked absolutely stunning tonight in her bright green dress and with her hair in soft curls.

 

Undoubtedly a tactic to get some poor celebrities to cooperate and draw out more information. And it seemed to work, there were already a few people approaching her. He quickly gave her a small wave and left her side so he wouldn't disturb her work. At such a big and important event it was better not to burden her and let her some room to to her work.

 

He grabbed a glass of champagne, when a waiter passed him with a tray, and took a small sip of it. A grimace formed on his face when he tasted the sparkling liquid and he wondered again how rich people manage to always have bad tasting but undoubtedly expensive food and drinks at such events. And despite Lex boyish image he apparently kept with this long ongoing tradition of catering. Clark looked over at the buffet but decided against checking it out, knowing it would likely have nothing worth risking upsetting his stomach over.

 

With really nothing else to do and no people wanting to talk to a commoner like him, he stood in the middle of the room cradling his champagne glass to his chest undoubtedly looking totally lost. With the passing time he got more and more uncomfortable he got and he really was debating about finding Lois or leaving early when he heard somebody clean their throat behind him. He slowly turned around not wanting to give away how startled he really was and took a few moment to just stand there shocked stiff and with his month slightly open when Lex Luthor himself stood before him just smiling slightly. Clark blinked a few times before shutting his mouth with a audible click.

 

Lex only laughter a bit at Clark's startled reaction: “Well this is defiantly a first. No need to be so shocked we are all really good friends here, aren't we?”

 

Clark really didn't like how Lex stretched the 'really' in his sickly-sweet tone. He instantly felt really distressed in the presence of the other man and just wanted to get away. He should use this chance to do his job and get one of Lex rare interviews but he just couldn't bring himself to care. There was a heavy feeling in his stomach and he started fidgeting. He couldn't really pinpoint why the presence of the Lex unsettled him so much, like no one before manged to do but he did.

 

Clark forced a very strained smile on his face and planned the best way to excuse himself without seeming overly rude.

“Good evening, Mister Luthor”, using the other man's last name would hopefully force some distance between them, “A wonderful event you have here. I will make sure to check out the rest right now. Well, it was nice meeting you. If you would exc...”

  
He never got to finish his sentence when an arm suddenly appeared around his hips and Lex got undoubtedly closer then necessary. He could feel the hot breath on his ear when Lex started speaking right next to him.

“Oh please Clark, call my Lex. Absolutely no need to be formal with me. I don't mind you being very causal with me. Very, _very_ causal.”

 

Clark's mouth went dry instantly and every word of protest got stuck in his throat. He struggled in an attempt to get some space between them but Lex just followed him as if he were glued to his side. Panic start rising in him and he looked wildly around for any sort of help but nobody paid them any attention or cared for his harassment.

 

The uneasy feeling in his gut got worse and he felt like throwing up. Another attack was slowly building up and Clark didn't know how much long he could hold on until he lost control and broke down.

He roughly jerked Lex arm away and ignored his high pitched protest in favor of getting the hell out from there. He swayed on his feet, the room around him was turning and coming in and out of focus. His vision was fading to black at the edges and he was getting closer and closer to loosing the little amount of food he was able to eat today.

 

The safety of the balcony seems to drawn further and further away into the distance as he took some wavering steps toward it.

He forced his feet forward, taking one cautious steps after another, bracing himself on the wall.

Finally after some more effort at last he reached the balcony door.

Fresh air leaped to meet him and he finally took a breath he didn't even know he was denying himself. Now, knowing that he urges for air he took some hasty, fast breaths but didn't get any air into his lungs. All he could manage were some hasty gasps and the lack of oxygen caused him to stagger.

 

He collide with something solid and tumbled helplessly to his knees on the cold stone tiles, which were wet from the rain this afternoon.

Everything was getting incredible loud and he couldn't even hear his own breathing or heartbeat over the commotion around him. The fake loud laughs and giggles, the gossiping in unnatural opulent voices, the high clacking of glasses. It was just to much for him. The stench of the inedible food, the heavy layer of sweat and the overly strong reeking perfumes filled his nose and made him dry heave.

 

Clark coiled up seeking for the smallest bit of comfort he could get, trying to endure the pain, now twisting his insides out, eating him up. If felt as if somebody had rammed a Kryptonite knife into his abdomen and was now slowly but steadily twisting it. Jerkin it around harshly just when Clark partly got used to the pain. He could feel hot tears streaming down his grotesquely distorted face and the powerful sobs made him shudder and tremble all over.

 

He couldn't do this anymore. It has never been this bad before. He didn't want to do this anymore. He just wasn't able to do this anymore. To live with the pain. Maybe being dead would be better. It would relieve him of his burden. It would be quiet. Sure ma and Lois would be sad but he would finally be free. And they would understand it was the best for him. No more suffering. No more pain. Only peace. He thought about the railing but it wouldn't be enough. It would leave him a chance of failing. His mind quickly jumped to the piece of Kryptonite safely stashed away in a small box in his apartment. Received shortly after is condition started to worse and since than a constant option sitting in the back of his mind.

 

 

“...it's gonna be OK. I've got you. Just breath”

 

And then there was silence. Nothing but this soft hypnotic voice drawing him back to reality and out of his endless misery.

He lifted his tear-stained eyes and blinked to clear his vision and size up the handsome stranger kneeing in front of him on the dirty ground. The guy had a small, reassuring smile on his face, strongly contradicted by the worried frown nestled between his eyebrowns. He drew soothing circles on Clark's shoulders with warm strong hands. Also keeping Clark upright this way. He himself surly didn't have the energy left to keep in a sitting position. To Clark surprise a slow and steady heartbeat filled his ears with its comforting sound and a natural leathery scent calmed down his stomach. All his senses began to concentrate on this man and everything else got turned out.

 

Clark felt good, better then he ever did since the incident with Zod. Sure he was exhausted still and he could still not get his shaking under control but the heavy weight was no longer pressing on his chest and he could finally breath again.

 

“Just like this. In and out. Good”, the calming voice keep speaking to him while Clark got himself more and more under control again and after the stranger swept away the tears from Clark's face with his soft and nice smelling handkerchief, he was strong enough to attempt to get on his feet. Almost instantly he felt a hand pulling him up and keeping him steady. When he felt the effort of the task wear off, a glass of water appeared in his hands and he drunk thirsty finally noticing how much his body had graved for it. When the older man took the glass back he gave Clark the

once-over to make sure he was really fine on his own. Apparently satisfied with his observation he patted Clark on the back to go back inside.

 

But Clark didn't want him to leave. This man manged to give him the comfort he so desperately needed. He couldn't just loose this after a few minutes to maybe never feel it again. He just couldn't.

He quickly grasped the others wrist with a bit to much strength and instantly release it in shock.

His lip quivered and he looked down embarrassed for acting out like this. He couldn't force a complete stranger he just meet this evening to help dealing with his emotional trauma. Heck, the other man must clearly think Clark was insane or on drugs for having a breakdown like this at a public gathering.

But to Clark's surprise he felt soft fingers in the next moment cradled his wrist and he looked up to clear and attentive eyes.

 

“It's OK. I will stay by your side.”

 


	2. The interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark is assignment to do an interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time my friend Lelolichan read over it to find the mistakes. A big thank you to her for doing this.

 

Clark was totally and utterly relaxed. All the tension in his cramped up muscles had faded away in the last hours he spend at the gala. He was entirely at ease and felt warm and cozy. His eyelids were heavy and he could definitely fall asleep on the spot. As on command, dipped his weighty body to the side, but his fall was stopped straightaway when he bumped against another torso. To content with the situation and the warmth the body beside him emitted, he stayed right where he was and leaned heavy against the person. A small pleased sight escaped his lips and he looked up to his savior through heavy eyelashes.

 

Clark was a lucky man for sure, not only did he run into the one person in the world, who for some reason could make all his problems vanish, but as it turned out was also nice in general and stayed with him the whole night till the gala came to an end. He snuggled deeper in the nice smelling jacket, which was lent to him when they got out of the building and into the cold weather and leaned more of his weight against the stranger while they waited for the car to pull up. Clark had clearly said he was fine getting home alone but his hero had insisted on taking him home so he could make sure Clark actually got there safe.

 

Since Lois already headed home to write her story he had no reason to refuse. She had looked for him in the middle of the evening and found him when he got back from the restroom where he washed his face and made himself presentable again. When he told her what had happened she left with a smug smile on her face. And she could really be self-satisfied. He was thankful for Lois insisting to come to the event. He actually had no idea how the evening would have went if he never came here and what he might have done to himself.

 

The sudden appearing of a luxurious black limousine pulled him out of his dark thoughts again. A solid arm got firmly placed around his hips and maneuvered him to the car door, opened by a well dressed older man.

 

“Let's get you home so you can sleep in your own bed”, spoke the deep and melodic voice beside him and Clark easily followed the sound into the vehicle. The patting on the car seat was so soft and he felt like he could sink right into it. He barley manage to give the driver his address with a hoarse voice but he must have fallen asleep, lulled in by the rhythmical sound of the engine. Or at least he thought so since next thing he noticed was a big hand shaking him softly and after blinking a few times to clear his vision he recognized his own apartment building outside the car.

 

He mumbled a barley recognizable thank you and offered to repay the gesture in some way but was turned down with the request to just rest and get better as fast as possible.

Clark stumbled to his door and had some difficulties to get his key to cooperate with him but finally he managed to open the door and gave a wave in direction to the car, which only starts to pull away when he made it over the doorstep.

 

Only when he reached his bed and sank down on it, did he sadly notice he never got the name of his benefactor. In consequence Clark could do nothing to show his gratitude for his rescue. When he started to get at least his shoes and jacked of before falling asleep to not dirty his bed or wrinkle the jacket, he noticed he was still wearing the coat of the stranger. He threw his own garment over the stool next to his bed where it nearly fell to the floor and curled up with the borrowed item of clothing clutched in his arms. It still smelled just like the beautiful guy and Clark felt asleep peacefully.

 

 

A abrupt hot sharp flash of pain near his forehead indicated his headache was coming back. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall leading to the copy room of the office to hold himself on his feet while he waited for the worst to pass. The break from his misery apparently only lasted about a week and everything came crashing back on him when the scent in the jacket started to fade away. Now was the pain and dread creeping back into his life again. Suddenly soft and fragile fingers start to massage his temples to ease his pain.

 

“Thanks, Lois”, a soft groan left his lips and he did tilt his head to give her easier access to the places where the pain was the worst.

“You didn't tell me it was back. I thought it was gone for good with how well and happy you were the past few days”, was her worried reply.

 

And he really believed this was the case and he was finally free, but life seems to legitimately love to screw him over. Still to exhausted to actually participate in the conversation he only shrugged.

When he finally felt like he could stand solely on his own two legs again, did he went to the break room to talk to Lois knowing she would not let him of the hook without getting all the information she wanted.

 

She at least waited until he had a cup of steaming hot coffee in hand and was feeling slightly better before she started to bombard him with questions.

“Soooo it is back”, she called it like this most of the time unsure of what exactly it really was, what causing Clark all the trouble.

 

“Just to be absolutely sure, after meeting Mister dark and handsome your condition suddenly got better after all those weeks of hardship. However when you didn't see him again it came back out of nowhere again?”

 

It wasn't really a question she wanted an answer for, so Clark just took a sip of his coffee and starred into the black liquid until his glasses where fogged up by the hot brew.

“The whole situation does seem to be a bit to specific to be a mere coincident, doesn't it? So for some unknown reason the guy is the solution for your problem, which threatens your every day life and brings you a abnormal amount of pain. And you have no idea where to find him. You didn't even ask for his name. Sometimes I really question your intelligence. Scratch that, I actually question it more than just sometimes. Why didn't you use this goddamn chance?”

 

The disbelieve was very easily noticeable in her voice and she seemed annoyed about him not doing everything in his capabilities to get better. It was perfectly obviously that if she had the chance she would drag the stranger right to him so he would get better. Or better said, she seemed very determined to hunt the guy down even if she had to use all her ability's and connections as a reporter to find him no matter how much time it might take.

 

He really loved her for being so protective and supporting and it showed once more that they were so close, she was part of the family already. His mother even made sure there was always food and a room ready on holidays or family events.

But sometimes she could be overbearing and he would have to reason with her to slow down before she did something she would regret afterward.

 

“Lois please, I'm really thankful for you getting so worked up on my accord, but I need you to not do anything harsh. I can't rely on a stranger to solve my problems for me. He has his own life and issues I can't expect him to make his life resolve around me and meet up with me every week when I start to feel awful again. Burden him with something so big and time consuming, just because he was unlucky enough to literally run into me at a random event would be to much of a demand. My conscience simply wouldn't be able to stand it. I will find another way to make it better and it will be fine so I beg of you please don't do anything.”

He looked at her with his big blue puppy eyes he knows she couldn't resist. Only after she wavered for a few moments did she finally resign with a heavy sign.

“Fine have it your way, you do-gooder. But if there is the smallest sign of you being in over your head on this, I will personally make sure...”

 

He never got to know what she would personally do to him because in this exact moment did Jimmy storm in the room, out of breath but relived when he saw Clark.

“Hey, Clark I've been searching for you all over the place. The big boss wants to see you in his office. Big story apparently”, he jumped from one foot to the other in excitement and got impatient when Clark didn't followed instantly.

While sending a apologizing smile in Lois direction Clark got up and made his way to Perry's office.

 

He notice his reflection in the glass of the door looked a bit sick again, but a lot better than the last time he knocked on this door. His skin color was not back to it's normal color and still a bit to white and he still had big dark bags under his eyes because he wasn't really able to sleep after the one night of the gala. But he looked like a normal person again. A burned out and overworked person but an ordinary person nonetheless.

 

He entered the office in a higher spirit after this re-cognitional, determinded not to be dragged down by problems like the headache or his poor circulation, which nearly did sent him to his floor as he got up this morning.

 

The moment he stepped in Perry was by his side slapping his back: “Look at you Kent. You appear to be in a way better shape after the party with Lois. Didn't I tell you, you would get over your heart-breaker. This is why everyone in this building should always listen to me. But not only did the Gala do wonders on your condition it also opened the door for great opportunities. We have the phenomenal chance for an exclusive interview with no other man then Lex Luther himself about the competition between him and Bruce Wayne over the release of their new Security System in the same week.”

 

Clark's smile instantly vanished from his face and all his new found resolution about having a good day no matter what instantly vanished int thin air the second Lex Luther was mentioned. He took a panicked step back as if he could run away and hide from the assignment. Bile was rising in his throat an he felt utterly sick. All color had left his face and he just shook his head and mounted a choked no.

 

Perry frowned at him. “No? Kent this is nothing you can just refuse. I say you do a story and your job is to just do it.”

Clark could only back away further and shake his head repeatedly. The taste of iron filled his month from the spitted lip he just keeps biting on and a small trail of blood ran over his chin and dropped onto his shirt.

 

“P-Please, I will do anything, a-anthing but p-please don't make me do it.”

The exact moment when Perry noticed Clark's obvious distress, his eyes turned soft and he held out his hand in a shooting gesture.

 

“OK Kent. I don't know what is the story behind this, but I won't force you if it stresses you out so much. I originally wanted Lois to cover Wayne's part of the article because of his well known attraction to pretty women but I will switch her with you. Are you fine with Gotham or is there a problem I should know of as well?”

Clark had a relived smile on his face even if he was still shaking and shivering.

“No, I'm fine with Gotham. Thanks, Perry.”

Perry just waved him out of his office already busying himself with some paperwork to make the switch happen.

 

Clark felt gross for pushing the insufferable Lex onto Lois but she could handle guys like this well and he would make it up to her in some way. Like he told Perry he would do anything, as long as he didn't have to be in Lex's presence ever again. He was really grateful for having a boss like Perry, who cared for the his employees and didn't ask to many questions and just put his trust in them.

People like him, Lois and his mother where the reason why he never lost fate into humanity despise the horrors he saw at the time when he was still Superman.

 

He found Lois at her desk waiting for his return and he gave her a tight hug and clinked to her until the tremors in his body stopped. Only then did he apologize to her about making her swap with him but she was having nothing of it and just promised to give Luther the worst time of his life when she heard why he absolutely refused to get close to the man. Then it was time to change and pack so he could be in Gotham before rush hour began.

 

The moment Clark left the train he took to get to Gotham he was surround by polluted and heavy air. It was always a shock to see all the filth and the darkness Gotham had to offer in comparison to Metropolis despite how close the two cities where to each other. He was really happy living on the other side of the river, even if they still had some crimes it was way safer there.

 

He turned up the collar of his coat against the light rain and moved out of the train station. It was a prejudication but every time he went to Gotham it rained so it was no wonder he believed the sun never shone here. Striding past homeless people sitting in door-frames or dark alleyways he made his way through the city. The traffic beside him had nearly come to a standstill and there was a constant honking of car horns and angry screams.

 

Taking the train had really been the better option this way he only lost about 20 minutes due to technical difficulty. But he already accorded for some delays in his planing and had still 30 minutes left when he finally reached Wayne tower.

 

He announced his arrival at the front desk and headed to the top floor via a spacious elevator, which suddenly wasn't really so spacious anymore when a whole group of well dressed business men and woman pushed in. He could fell their judging looks when they examine his baggy clothes and he shrunk back into the corner in hiding. A shocked gasp escaped him when out of nowhere felt a hand landing on his stomach. And the hand was placed there intentionally for sure and not only followed when he tried to shrink back but also dipped a bit lower. He had nowhere to run with all the people blocking his way and the robust iron at his back. He wanted to speak up and tell this person to stop but he just couldn't get his vocal chords to work. Paralyzed he could do nothing but stand there in fear and endure it hoping someone, anyone would save him. How far he had fallen from a mighty protector to a victim begging to be saved.

 

Clark sank halfway down the wall of the elevator still processing what just happened when the group finally left and he was alone again. His legs were shaking but he manage to pull himself up again and move in a big outer office when he arrived at his destined floor.

The young and pretty secretary gave him a disapproving glance and told him to wait in the chairs next to the office door until Mister Wayne was finished with something more important and would receive him. Then she pushed past bumping his shoulder on her way to the elevator for an early lunch break.

 

Clark was glad he didn't have to stand out of his own power anymore because he didn't know if he had any left. He collapsed in one of the uncomfortable chairs and rested his head on his hand curling in on himself again. He didn't care how unprofessional he looked right now. He just wanted to know what he did wrong and why live always seemed to be hell-bent on making him suffer.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his erratic breathing. He could see dots dancing around his vision and felt sickness creeping up on him. Soft whimpers escaped him as he felt a well know pain twisting inside him driving tears to his eyes.

 

“We really should stop meeting like this”, spoke a low voice tenderly before him. Clark's head jerked up in surprise and he looked right in the face of his stranger and paused. What was he doing here and how did he manage to appear always in the exact moment Clark was starting to completely loose it.

 

A faint pressure on his fingers brought him back to reality. When he looked down he saw the good looking man had took Clark's hand in his and was drawing circles with his thumbs.

“Come on let's get you into my office I have a comfortable sofa where you can lay down”, and Clark really tried but he was just so exhausted and he ended up being nearly carryed to the piece of furniture by an arm around his rip-cage, which took all of his weight and held Clark upright.

Clark paused again when he slowly looked around in the spacious room he was resting in now with the big logo on the window and the expensive set up.

“You are...Bruce Wayne?”

 

He couldn't believe he not only collapsed onto the most well known bachelor at a gala ruining all of his chances to take a women home but also had a break down when he was supposed to have a important interview with the man.

“I really messed this up, didn't I. This was not how I had the afternoon planed. I didn't mean to crash in front of you again”

 

Instead of a harsh answer he only got a soft laugh and a ice pack placed gently on his forehead.

“It is by far not the weirdest thing that ever happened to me, I'm from Gotham you know. I'm more surprised you really didn't know who I am. It is kinda refreshing.”

 

A fluttering and warm feeling sank into Clark's middle when he heard this kind words. How could all the articles about the playboy Bruce Wayne be so wrong? Despite not recognizing him he clearly knows about the bad reputation and read some articles about Wayne's escapades over the last years.

This image couldn't be further away from the man sitting on the coffee-table in front of him with a worried look on his face and still holding his hand for support.

 

Clark concentrated and could hear the steady heartbeat of Mister Wayne and started to relax again and calm down. He had no idea what made the sound so appealing and comforting but he was glad it worked so well.

 

It took almost 40 minutes before Clark felt well enough again to attempt to sit up and all the time Mister Wayne stayed by his side despite the fact he had properly more important thinks to do and it was way past their scheduled interview time.

“Feeling better again?”

 

Clark answered in embarrassment and tried to apologize: “Yes I'm feeling much better now. I'm terrible sorry for causing you such inconvenience, Mister Wayne.”

However Mister Wayne just shook his head with a smile.

“Just call my Bruce, at this point there is absolutely no need for formalities anymore”, and Mister Wayne, no Bruce reached out for a handshake.

 

“Clark Kent, nice to meet you although I wish it could have been under different circumstances,” he shook the offered hand.

“I'm just glad I could be of help. I don't want to meddle into your affairs but I would recommend staying at home if you are ill.”

 

A unconformable silence spread between them while Clark looked at his hand thinking about how he best could explain his condition. He wished Bruce's hands where still on his to calm his nerves.

Finally he spoke: “It is complicated”, when he saw the heart fallen look on Bruce's face he instantly backtracked and continued quickly, “I'm fine with talking about it. Totally fine actually. It will just take some time and I can't really speak about everything yet. I just don't want to waste your time with my babbling on about my problems.”

But Bruce surprised him by gesturing to continue and siting straighter clearly interested in Clark's speak.

 

“So, it is not really physical. Well OK, it is in some way but it is not really some illness a doctor could diagnose or treat. Ehm, bad things happen while the attack on Metropolis. Very awful things. And ever since then I had this condition. Like I suddenly have this break downs, feel pain, or just have this headaches and in general feel sick all the time and had to change my lifestyle a lot to adjust. The attacks, that's what I call them, are triggered somehow. If I'm in a situation which makes my uncomfortable or if some memories of the original event are triggered my condition get worse drastically. I can't really go in much more details about it or the the incident. I'm sorry this properly sounded weird”

 

Big hands took hold of his.

“Thanks for telling. I'm really glad you are trusting my with this it ,means a...”, just as wanted to continue he got interrupted by someone coming into the room just like Lois when Clark spoke to her and Jimmy came to get him.

The secretary had, for a second, a disgusted look on her face when she took hold of the situation and quickly interpreted their closeness as flirting on her bosses part, but she shifted her face to a neutral expression very quickly.

 

“Mister Wayne, the guest for your next appointment has arrived”, after giving Bruce the information he left them alone again.

Clark was aware he messed up the interview completely and instead of doing his job he had rested and told a stranger he only meet for the second time the story of his pathetic life. He would have a hard time explaining this to Perry after, he got his boss to reschedule a different interview for him.

When he attempted to get up and make his way out in defeat he got stopped by a hand around his wrist and he turned around. A business card got placed between his fingers and he stared at it in wonders. It had the normal office phone number of Wayne tower on it but underneath were some numbers scribbled in a neatly hand writing.

 

“Let's reschedule the interview to another day. I hope I'm not to intrusive but I put my mobile phone number down. If you would message me or call I would be delighted. Have a good day, Clark. I hope you find a cure to your condition soon”

Bruce shock his hand when he escorted him out of the room and Clark just stood in the elevator with a goofy smile on his face.

 


	3. The Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman is making plans against Superman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really big thanks to [catty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattyk8/profile) for beta reading this chapter. The comments were really helpful and she did find so many mistakes I could corret. I really can't thank her enough for helping my like this

The steady sound of a mallet hammering down on an old tractor tire pulsated through the open space of the cave and echoed off the high stone ceiling. Every single blow was counted by a strained but determined voice and accompanied by labored breathing.

“One eighty-five, one eighty-six, one eighty-seven..."

Sweat was running down Bruce's trained body, reflecting the cold artificial light above his head and making him shine in the darkness around him. The muscles in his arms trembled from pure exertion after the long hours of working out and blood was slowly seeping from his maltreated hands, trickling down the mallet handle and dropping onto the cold concrete floor. Finally he reached twohundred and the hammer, slippery from blood, slid easily from his damaged fingers and fell with a loud crashing noise to the floor.

Bruce took a fluffy white towel from the pull-up bar next to him and started to clean up a little during the time it took him to go over to the heart of the cave his high-tech computer. The now bloody and gross towel landed on the floor next to his computer chair forgotten as Bruce turned to face the screen of his accomplishment.

He had worked on the Batcomputer over the past decade trying to get it closer and closer to perfection, always coming up with new ideas, switching to newer parts created by WayneTech and installing new software until he was satisfied for a few months before the cycle started over once again.

The huge display already showed a folder with a big red S on it, the symbol of the house of El as he had found out. Bruce activated it by pressing his thumb on the fingerprint sensor to bypass the enormous security measures, which would destroy all the data on the computer if someone unauthorized tried to get into it and would only leave the copies on his two back up computers at secret locations far away from the hands of any intruders. Inside the folder were hundreds of neatly ordered files and sub-folders dating back about 18 months. 

The cursor hesitantly hovered over the oldest file, an audio file. Before he could bring himself to open it, his hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white and blood trickling from reopened wounds on his palms. When he finally activated the file, a sound-editor appeared showing the single layers of the recorded phone call he had already cleaned up over a year ago. The hit count at the side was over four hundred, showing just how often Bruce had listened to it in the past. 

The sound of his own panicked voice filled the cave through the loudspeakers. He listened to himself begging for the person on the other end of the line to run and save himself and the people around him, there were panicked screams and crying and the clattering of feet until the call abruptly ended in static and silence, except for Bruce's own heavy breathing and desperate shouting. 

Bruce just sat there in his office chair in the dark, staring at the frozen screen before he was able to get himself to do anything or move again. He felt helpless. What good did it do to be Batman if he was not able to save the people he cared about? When he could do absolutely nothing against the powerful alien? He could not forget, and he could not undo it, but he would never forgive, no matter how much time may have passed.

A warm hand was delicately placed on his shoulder, and Bruce looked behind him to see the man who had been by his side all his life, supporting him in every step, being there for him when everything around him was falling apart. Alfred looked disapproving at the condition of Bruce's hands and made the man shrink down unconformably like he just got busted doing something wrong. Which he probably did, in the eyes of the older man; he hurt himself, which was a thing Alfred absolutely despised. The butler vanished for a few minutes and came back with a fully stocked med kit. With practiced movements perfected after years of patching up his charge, he cleaned the cuts and wrapped Bruce hand's in white bandages.

Only after he finished fussing over Bruce did he notice what the vigilante was looking at, and immediately a deep frown appeared on his face. 

“Is this really necessary, Master Bruce? Isn't it at this point more likely that Superman is already dead? Nobody has seen or heard from him since the event, and as tragic as it might have been for you to lose so many people you knew, you're just wasting your time hunting after shadows. Don't you see what this hate and vengeance did to you? I'm the only one left still willing to put up with your rampage and brutal methods. The rest of the family hasn't come home in months and Miss Gordon stopped calling two weeks ago. And this!” With this words he smacked a Gotham newspaper onto the desk with the front-page headline “Batman's Brand of Justice.”

“This makes you no hero, Master Bruce. By doing this you stoop down to their level, turning into a criminal just like them even if your intentions are good. If you continue to spiral downward like this, I'm afraid there is nothing left on this earth able to save you from yourself, your rage and your loneliness. I know it is hard, but I beg you just let it go and start to live again. Try to get your family back before it is to late.”

Even if Alfred's lecture started in anger, it ended full of worry and concern and it broke Bruce's heart to see the man so clearly in pain. He really wished he could agree and have the uncertainty melt from Alfred's face, but he just couldn't manage to. If he could just make Alfred understand why he had to do it. Why there was no other way.

“Please Alfred, you have to accept this. This is not over yet. There is no valid proof of his death or even injury he just vanished like only a person with his amount of power could. No one else could have made him disappear like this so quickly without his support, and it’s because of this I know he is not gone. He is just waiting for the right moment to strike again. And when this moment comes the casualties from 18 months ago will be nothing but a joke compared to the death and misery that follows him.”

Bruce started to pacing the floor as he rants, trying to calm down. He wanted to do something, anything so he wouldn't feel so useless. Only thinking about what the Alien could do to earth was enough to get his blood boiling and shift Bruce into a state of rage. He spun back to Alfred abruptly and continued his speech while gesturing wildly.

“This is just part of his nefarious plan and everyone is falling for it. Don't you see? Everyone has forgotten the pain and misery he brought upon us and remembers him as a hero, savior or even protector. He is manipulating us and our memory of him and plays with our fears of being abandoned, left alone and without hope.”

At this point Alfred had heard enough and opened his mouth to reason with Bruce but he got interrupted before he could even finish his first sentence.

“If he comes back, humanity will surrender to him, willingly crowning him themselves. We already know he lied before when he told us he was the last of his kind. Zod proved this, and there is no guarantee there isn't a whole civilization of them left just waiting to take over the earth if they get the chance. There would be nothing to stop them if they started invading because we have absolutely no safety measurements or ways do defend ourselves against super powered beings like this. We can't just shoot at them and hope they will stay down. Batman is the only one standing between the Kryptonians and their reign. The only ones preventing fates like the one of poor Mister Kent. No one should have to suffer like he has to. No one should have to die or watch their parents be murdered by a foreign entity.”

After Bruce's rant came to a breathless end Alfred left with a disproving shake of his head. He clearly didn't see eye to eye with Bruce on this, but he accepted his decisions like he hadso often before and would help if it was needed. Bruce would never waver in his decision to protect and he always did what he thought was necessary to save lives, even if it meant using unethical methods.

Bruce turned back to his computer and entered a few commands into the console til it displayed a decrypted file he had stolen from Lex Luthor at the event in Metropolis. He had planted a digital leech in the basement server room while pretending to be drunk and lost but his run in with Clark had awoken his protective instincts and prevented him from getting it back. He had already planed to get back into the venue at night to finish the job, but to his astonishment a beautiful woman not only collected the hard drive but also gave it back to him when she wasn't able to decrypt it herself.

Diana Prince was now under the constant surveillance of the Bat and her every move was recorded and saved on the enormouse storage of the Batcomputer. But so far she acted inconspicuously at least, if you ignored the fact that there were pictures of her from World War I and she was therefore being much older than the date on her passport suggested. It was very clear now why she had wanted the data and didn't want this liability to continue to stay in Luthor's hands. 

He planned to get in contact with her soon enough when he had all the information and advantages he needed to have the upper hand. She clearly suspected something when she gave the drive back and he had to be prepared for anything to keep his secret. She hadn't given him any indication she would be a danger so far but he had already started to come up with plans against her even if he hoped he didn't have to use them.

He searched through the data for some time adding comments or comparing it with his own material until he found what he was looking for. Reports about the salvage of a green rock from the ocean financed and organized by Luthor himself for some time now till there was something found a couple of day ago. This resulted in the information about a special shipment arriving in Metropolis harbor tonight at a landing pier owned by Lex-Corp.

He still had a lot of time until then, so Bruce followed the paper and money trail and took notice of all the people who had been blackmailed to make the delivery happen so fast and without any control or custom pay. He neatly organized all the connections on a hard drive, which would be open to the public at a moment when it would hurt Luthor the most. The police and politicians were without a doubt involved to some degree and without knowing who to trust it would be best to leak it through the press for everyone to see. Perhaps he could even ask Clark.

He didn't want to hurt Luthor per se; he could even understand the reason for doing things this way. It was kind of hard to explain to the government and public you where transporting a weapon strong enough to put an end to the Superman over the borders. But if Bruce could get a tactical advantage out of harming Lex Corp he wouldn't hesitate.

In the end Lex even helped Batman. It was much easier to steal from Luthor than try to find the stone himself without raising suspicion. He had stumbled on theories surrounding the rock utterly by accident and detected there was a totally different use for it than as a energy source as scientists were speculationg. He did run some simulations and swore he would get his hands on the rock when he was proven right and it turned out there really was a way to effectively beat the Superman. 

A small smirk appeared on Bruce's face. This was his chance to finally get some power back and destroy the Superman once and for all if necessary. He took a long hot shower to relax his cramped up muscles. His back was really starting to feel the hours of sitting in the chair and reading and it was time to finally invest into a better chair. 

He looked at his phone before he continued to get ready and read the short but pleasant conversation he'd with Clark yesterday evening again. He couldn't put his finger on what dreaw him to the younger man, but Bruce just couldn't help himself even knowing it was probably a mistake. 

A mistake just like leaving his jacket with Clark. Not that it was too special; it only had some GPS transmitters in it so Alfred could track him and send the Batmobile to his location more easily but still he should not have left something like this with a stranger. But Bruce just couldn't bring himself to take it back when the signal never left the room marked as the bedroom on the floor plan of the apartment. He had looked it up when he had done a whole back ground check on Clark.

He sighed and suppressed all thoughts of Clark because they weren't useful for what he had planned tonight; they were only distracting him. He continued to prepare for the imminent confrontation by getting into the Batsuit, putting on the cowl and becoming someone different, checking the equipment once more and putting the bat-brand into his belt in case he needed it tonight. Even if Alfred didn't approve of it he saw it as necessary. Some criminals just wouldn't stay down and didn't fear him anymore. This was his chance to bring justice to those who weren't afraid.

Only when he was sure everything was in place did he go over to the Batmobile and rush to Metropolis at top speed, breaking several limits, racing until he was as close to the dock as he dared without raising suspicion. He left the car in a small dark backstreet where the chance of it being found by accident were drastically reduced and then continued the rest of the way on foot. He could control the car remotely or let a new program take over if the need rose at some point. 

The cold night air brushed against the exposed skin of his face as he grappled onto a roof and start running above the street always staying in the shadow's. He hide behind every cover he could find and made his way slowly over to a spot where he could observe the harbor with his binoculars. Then he waited. He only had to stay in the shadows for about an hour before hectic movement indicated the imminent arrival of the ship.

The box he desired was easily noticeable with the big Lex Corp logo on it and the metallic outer wall, which was probably lined with lead if the material on the hard-drive was really correct. This stopped the radiation. The effect on humans should be minimal and it would only harm Kryptonian cells but it was better to be safe than sorry when dealing with such a short test period for emission. For this reason he had brought a smaller lead lined carrier bag which should fit the stone quite well when he got his hand on it.

Stealing the rock right now would be difficult, what with all the armed guards patrolling the area and watching out for anything suspicious. Opening the case and getting the contents into the bag and to the Batmobile would draw to much attention and he would definitely have to fight against a lot of gunmen.

It would be way easier to just put a tracker on the item and collect it later when it was at it's destined location with way less people around. The distance to the object was too far to precisely place a tracker on a hard to see place on the box or the transportation truck so he would have to get closer. He would need a distraction as well to create some panic to to make them transport it quickly so they would not check it for any unexpected tech.

He started to program on the computer on his gauntlet so he could get everything ready for his plan. He checked over the surroundings again for any threats he might have missed. He couldn't find any so he set his scenario into motion.

He leaped from the roof free falling for a few seconds, only to be stopped from falling to his demise by using his cape as a glider until his foot collided with the face of the first masked henchmen with an audible cracking noise. He didn't pause to re-orient himself but sprang back into motion instantly and took down two others standing next to him by breaking the first one's arm and rendering him unconscious by hitting his head on a container next to them, all the while hiding the attack from the vision of other guard. He put the secound man into a headlook and held it until the guard passed out.

There were no screams of terror only a slight struggle as he took them down way to quickly and muffled every noise they made. He would be gone again before the body's could be found and warning screams could start to erupt around him. In the next moment, he was hiding behind a container tracking the movements of the guards around him again so he wouldn't be caught.

He snuck around the corner and gripped a guy passing by from behind, covering his mouth and tucking him behind his cover, where he could leavet the body till the police could arrive and arrest him before continuing on. Batman managed to move forward but had to skitter back into the shadows when a beam of light brushed the end of his cape. He fled to the top of a stack of containers and waited for the person to pass to drop a small case with Knockout Gas to his feet and swooped down and to suspend him in the air with some wire when he was notmoving anymore. He gripped the flashlight and turned it off.

The distance to his target shrunk more and more, and he thought he could get this over with without getting into a real fight when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes and spun around. He had already swiped out a Batarang and started to throw it when he recognized the bulky suit in the dim light around him and managed to redirect the weapon in the last possible moment. The sharp edge plugged itself into the wall like a knife into butter not a centimeter away from Clark's shocked face.

Frozen big blues eyes stared back to him unblinking but clearly frightened until Clark's sight slowly wandered to the sharp-edged Batarang that had nearly cut him and Bruce could hear the shocked intake of air even from the distance that seperated them.

Clark shook like a leaf and took a step back in the direction of the guards who where steadily approaching, alerted by the loud noise Clark had made when his back collided with a stack of boxes as he'd stepped back. The camera and bag made it obvious Clark was only here to snoop around, for a story most likely, and he was in no way prepared for a fight. He didn't even think about the risk letting himself be surprised and cornered like this and not having a weapon on hand.

Batman suppressed a curse because this was not part of his plan and it made everything harder. Now he doubtlessly had to get the careless reporter out of here before he got wound up in all of this and hurt because unlike the oh so great Superman, Batman did not want to have any innocent victims caught up in his crusade. Especially not Clark, who'd already had to endure to much and who he had to protect from the pain he was in.

It would screw his careful crafted plan over to get Clark out of here and it would become much harder to get his hand on the stone. Not to mention of the injuries and pain he would have to cause in the process after losing the cover of being unnoticed when he attempted to stop them from leaving before he could come back. His Battank was good but not delicate enough to differentiate between causing minor or major injurie's.

All in all, it would turn into a total disaster if he prioritized Kent over his mission as Batman and save him from the situation he had maneuvered himself into. 

It was a judgment call he had to make in second and Bruce didn't hesitate for a single moment of it. With the small wrist computer on his gauntlet, he activated the back-up plan he'd made just in case something went wrong. The Batmobile turned on and started racing toward the location where it could stop the transporter from leaving before he was back and hopefully not cause too much injury.

He sprinted over to Clark, who did try to duck to the side, clearly afraid of what Batman would to to him, but he was not fast enough and got swiped up by the Bat and catapulted onto the next roof by the grappling gun. Batman was surprised at how light the man in his arms was despite his size and it must nearly border on being underweight. 

Clark was clearly afraid and trembled while clinging to Batman's broad chest. The vigilante kept the man close to himself to make sure he was safe and wouldn't fall while they flew high over the city and away from the angry screams and roaring from the Batmobile behind them. When they where far enough away from the harbor that Clark would be safe, Batman maneuvered them to street level and set Clark down before turning and vanishing into the shadows again so he could make his way back to the battlefield. Bruce really wanted to stay and make sure Clark was OK and not having another attack but the Bat had no time for sentimentality like this.

When he arrived at the scene after going all the way back, he was meet with a sight straight out of an action movie. There were some cars knocked over, people bleeding and screaming in pain, small fires flaring into the night and the sound of guns being used some distance away, where his car probably was. He did know the auto fight feature was not too well calibrated yet but in no simulation he had run over the past months had something as bad as this ever happened.

Now he would've been happy not to have used it for a few more months until it was completely ready. All this chaos around him could have been avoided and the blood of these people wouldn't be on to his hands. He might not have a problem with breaking bones himself or even branding people but having it done by a machine in his name completely out of his control was totally different and he slightly regretted his choice. 

He sent a anonymous emergency call to get medical help to the scene as quickly as possible and followed the noise of squealing tires and crashing to collect his car and end this mission once and for all before somebody would die. He really hoped he would be in time to prevent any serious damage and still finish his mission to some extent. Finally he saw the action going on below the crane he was currently running on and even spotted the transportation truck which was dent and had big scratches on its side. Promptly he activated a Batarang with a tracking function, which he threw so it could claw into the site of the truck neatly hidden in the blind spot of the drivers cabin.

Afterward he jumped down onto the roof of his car, which was still running amok. He never hit the top of it because it opened when he got close enough and he just dropped down into the driver's seat. When he shifted to manual controls again, he instantly switched to a more non violent approach and only continued the chase long enough to uphold the front and not raise suspicions, but pulled back when he was sure the henchmen would drive to their base to hide.

He didn't leave Metropolis that night, instead driving the car to one of his many safe houses where he parked it underneath in a special garage. Bruce started fixing the damage the Batmobile had sustained and kept on checking the position of his sender from time to time. 

He knew Luthor's schedule and was sure he couldn't check on his rock before morning thanks to some party Bruce had organized under some alias. The security would be tight with the incident this evening, but Luthor would only manage to stock up to some degree in the short time and while being stuck at a social engagment. All in manageable degrees for the Bat, who couldn't help but allow a small smirk on his face. Even thought not everything was going according to plan he was lucky and the car program only caused minor injurie's. Even thought they had looked serious back at the pier, he already checked the reports of the hospital to be sure.

He left the car and ran from roof to roof, gliding and always following the signal to confiscate the rock before the first light of dawn could start to rise.

 

Clark was standing there in a complete daze still processing what had just happened to him while watching the shadow quickly vanish into darkness. What had just happened? And who was this mysterious vigilante dressed all in black like a demon from hell?

It had all started early this morning. He was still feeling pretty good again after meeting Bruce for yesterday's interview, which in the end hadn't really happened but had sent a text in the evening to the number on the card and Bruce had replied.

It was nothing important Clark had just apologized again for causing trouble and told Bruce he would bring his jacket with him the next time they saw each other, which left him with enough time to get it cleaned. This would be absolutely necessary; it still lay on his bed and he still cuddled it at night so it was totally wrinkled now. 

But Bruce just told him once again it was fine and he wasn't really bothered by Clark's constant attacks and was just glad he could help in any way. He also rendered the plan to run to a cleaning service the next morning totally needless by basically gifting the jacket to Clark. Sure, it was more likely he already had a new jacket and Clark could keep it or do whatever he wanted with it like Bruce said, but it sounded to Clark a lot like he wanted the jacket to stay with him. And Clark was happy to not hav to give the item of clothinge back after it had become a sort of comfort blanket for him.

He went to work early and full of energy and avoided Lois's questions mostly, abashed to admit he hadn't recognized Bruce Wayne when he'd met him the first time. But hiding something from a famous reporter was a fruitless effort and he got cornered pretty quickly and dragged into the copy room for some privacy so Lois could start her interrogation. He tried to deflect and slip out but this only got her more curious and after she threatened to call his mom about his mood swings he finally came clean and told her all about yesterday.

After he finished he stood there cheeks red from embarrassment and waited for Lois's judgment which came very quickly.  
“I can't believe you, Clark! And you call yourself a reporter for the Daily Planet. I know the social pages is not really your thing, but god, Clark it's Bruce Wayne. He is one of the richest men in existence, he's good looking, and more importantly he lives in the next city. The Planet run articles about him on a regular basis almost every few months. How could you not have known it was him?”

He shrunk more into himself and mumbled a soft excuse, “I read the articles. There were just never any with pictures of Bruce in them.”  
She snorted loudly and interrupted before he could come up with anything more in defense. “Well maybe there weren't any pictures because even a ten-year-old would recognize 'Bruce' when he saw him. How come you had to reschedule the interview but are still on first name basis with Mr. Wayne? Do you mind explaining that, Clark?”  
This time Clark really fled from the room red at the ears and wanting nothing more than to have the floor open up under him so he could hide. This reminded him he still had to talk to Perry. After he had the color of a normal person again he told Perry he would reschedule with Mr. Wayne and Perry luckily accepted it without asking him why. He most likely just assumed it was because of Bruce and his flamboyant life-style or some business he had to personally attend . 

Until he had all the information for the article he occupied himself by following other leads and checking some information. When he looked over the stuff Lois had found on Luthor and thought was not important for the article he noticed the mention of some research Luthor was doing in the ocean and the connection to a strange rock, which sounded a lot like Kryptonite. 

A cold shiver ran down Clark's spine when he thought about a monster like Luthor having something like Kryptonite to hurt him. Even if he was not able to be Superman right now he was still deeply worried about Luthor wanting to take actions against him the moment he came back. Maybe he'd started even before the incident with Zod. Luthor was probably searching for him and his secret identity right now in order to destroy him if he got the chance.

A crunching noise alarmedert him to the fact that his pencil had not survived in his balled fist and he tried to relax again but didn't quite manage to trilled up by the new information. With no other way of finding out how much Luthor really knew Clark had no other option than to be a normal reporter and do some research the old fashioned way and after a long morning which only made him despise Luthor more and more he finally had a lead he could check out tonight. It was risky doing this without his powers but Lois did stuff like this all the time even after he could not come to save her anymore and she was fine.

He tried to spellcheck some of Lois's work but was too nervous and just couldn't concentrate. When it was finally time to leave and get ready, he almost ran out of the office. He stopped at home and changed into black jeans and a leather jacket in hopes of attracting too much attention like this before making his way over to the docks. He found out really fast it was way harder to snoop around like this without having his super powers to depend on and he nearly got caught two times before even getting close to the shipment.

When he finally could see the container and was thinking about how to get even closer he noticed he got himself trapped in a small alley between two rows of containers and he panicked when he heard some guards talking in front of him and getting closer and closer. He hadn't tested it yet but with all other abilitie's being so inconsistent it was highly likely he was vulnerable at this moment. Should he get caught he could be injured, tortured or even killed and he was totally afraid of all these possibilies.

He stumbled back trying to regroup but his way back got cut off by more approaching armed guards and he panicked trapped like this. He was just about to attempt to run for his life and break through the front when out of nowhere something hit the wall right next to his face. 

Knowing it was over and he had been found he looked up to see a dark monstrous looking shadow land right in front of him. He was frozen in place his heart hammering in his chest and he couldn't get himself to move; he was too intimidated. Finally he could look to the side, and he saw a razor-sharp metal piece stuck halfway into the solid metal wall.

He screamed in shock and tried to get away from the assailant before it -whatever it might be -could aim better and do him any harm, but it was hopeless. He got grabbed in seconds and was struggling to save himself when all of a sudden they where flying over the rooftops. 

Clark's stomach turned dangerously and he panicked. This was totally different from flying on his own and he was frightened of falling to the hard and unforgiving ground and die so he clung to the black shadow and closed his eyes. But it was over as fast and surprisingly as it had started and his feet where on solid ground again in the next moment. When he opened his eyes again he could see the figure vanish into the darkness again leaving him safely away from the fight. He sank to the floor his wobbly knees not able to hold him up.

All the time Clark had thought he was alone and when he finally meet one of his kind who he felt a connection with it turned out the guy was evil. But this being had clearly saved him and despite the creepy looks seemed to be a hero. Another super using his power to do good just like Superman did before.

It had to be something not human, with the strength and the ability to fly and vanish into blackness like this. Probably no Kryptonian with his clear preference for the dark and the night but another hero nonetheless. Finally Clark felt like he belonged with someone, like he had an ally in his fight against the evil around him, the world not completely on it's own after Superman had to retire.

Clark really wished he could help the stranger, but a powerful entity like this could protect itself and take care of the situation. Even if he didn't know why the dark figure wanted the Kyrptonite and what its connection to Luthor was, everything was better than leaving a weapon like this with Lex and it would be safe in the hands of a fellow super human. But this feeling didn't stay very long before it got crushed.

He did not return home but remained close by to at least get a story about the arrest of the men for all the trouble he went through or at least he thought so. What he found when the police arrived where not some neatly tied up criminals but a lot of ambulances and blood. Cars were thrown around and helpers were working on rescuing the injured.

With his contacts as a reporter he got some details out of the officers. Luckily it seemed like no one was hurt fatally so far but there where a lot of nasty looking injurie's and property damage. One thug was able to clearly describe the offender and the police was sure it was Gotham's Batman. 

Sure Clark had heared some rumors about him, but he had never thought the legends were true. He'd heard about some branding in the shape of a bat only a few weeks ago from Lois and he could only stare when he got more and more detailed description on what the Batman did. Not only tonight but also in the past in Gotham and he thought more and more that this guy was even worse than Lex Luthor.

He clearly had some form of super power everybody were sure of it at this point and he used it to do harm and hurt people in the name of doing something good. Yes he did save people just like he saved Clark tonight but at what cost? Was he really better than the criminals he put down if the crooks were permanently injured or disabled? The police could do nothing against him with how fast he was; he was always gone by the time they arrived.

The worst thing was, Clark wouldn't have heard of him; his activity did drastically drop when Superman came around and it only spiked up again when Superman was gone for several weeks.

Gotham's Bat clearly avoided Superman, apparently knowing it would start a fight and by doing this showed he was afraid of Superman. Clark was always heartbroken when people feared his power but having another forceful human clearly avoid him in fear was something entirely new. If only Clark had known about the Bat when he still had his powers, he might have been able to do something. Talk some sense into him, make him change his ways or interfere with his business when he tried to hurt people. But it was to late now.

There was nothing mild mannered reporter Clark Kent could do to stop someone like this and for the first time, he knew how all the people afraid of Superman must feel and why they hated him so much. Untouchable, unaccountable and unaffected by any laws an entity like this was sure to strike terror in the heart of the masses. Paired with Superman being mysterious about himself and the incident with Zod it was really a miracle people were not searching for him to cut off his head themselves.

Then this was exactly what the Bat wanted. He had no other reason to come all the way here from Gotham and steal the Kryptonite if he didn't want to cause Superman harm. So he must at least suspect he survived Zod and was still out there and still a threat that needed to be eliminated. 

All his hopes to finally have a friend with whom he could share his burden and which maybe could have helped him with overcoming his trouble were crushed. It was way more likely he would get some Kryptonite to the chest than get a single word out in front of the Bat. It was hopeless.

Clark's happiness drained away and even rereading Bruce's message in the taxi didn't help to make him feel better. He just wanted to get to bed as quickly as possible and forget everything about this evening.


	4. The interview second try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secound try at the interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been some times thanks to christmas but here is the next chapter.
> 
> A really big thanks to [catty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattyk8/profile%22) for beta reading this chapter again. She catches so many mistakes and has really helpful coments to improve the story.

Clark tilted his head to the side to get a better look at the amount of dark windows of the mansion sprawled in front of him. The missing light didn't only make the place look even more creepy than it already was, but it also looked deserted. A house way to big for a single the person living in it. Even for a whole family it would still be to much space.

 

This pure demonstration of wealth and power was intimidating and Clark felt small in comparison to the massive and elegantly decorated building in front of him. The small ornaments framing the windows, the pillars with the detailed handiwork and the embellishment sculpted in the stone. It was one more thing that widened the distance between the worlds Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne occupied. And yet here Clark was, a country boy trying to blend in with high society.

 

He stepped up to the front door and used the heavy doorknocker with sweaty palms and waited. He was already nervous, but his anxiety was still rising to the point where he barely dared to breathe, afraid he would do it wrong. He didn't know if all of this had really been a good idea or if he had made a fatal mistake.

 

When he'd gotten the text message inviting him over to the manor for the interview, he'd been excited to see Bruce again and finally get his article done before Perry started to complain. He'd begun to feel uncertain for the first time when he'd been deciding on what to wear and came to the conclusion he could not wear one of his usual overlarge suits. Bruce had seen him in one the last time they'd met, but back then he hadn't known he would be meeting Bruce, and he really didn't want to be seen in one of those again.

 

After thinking about it and, more importantly, counting the few dollar bills he still had in his wallet, he concluded that the suit he got from Lois would have to be good enough and he would wear it again. But he just hadn't been able to fall asleep last night when he'd thought about visiting Bruce in the same suit he had seen him the first time, and he had a feeling Bruce wore a different suit to every event he attended. He still ended up putting it on the next morning when he got up after maybe one hour of sleep; it wasn’t like he had any other options available.

 

As he often was unable to keep any food down these days, he gave his apple to a skinny-looking child got off the train at Gotham’s central station and hailed a taxi to take him to the manor. It was way cheaper traveling this way than driving all the way from Metropolis. When he told the driver his destination he got a critical look, and Clark, well aware he totally didn't look like someone who belonged there, tugged at his tie insecurely.

 

When they finally got to the long driveway of the Wayne property, his hands started to shake. When he got out of the car in front of the mansion he was a total mess and his knees almost didn't support him. He paid the driver and sent him on his way so he would have no excuse to turn back and run. But standing in front of the beautiful ornamented door and waiting to see when or even if someone would open it for him he felt like scrambling back to his bed and under the covers. It definitely didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

 

The door in front of him swung open, and a well-dressed elderly man appeared, looking expectantly at him. It was the same man who had driven him back from Lex's party, Clark noticed. He must be a regular employee of Bruce's and not only his evening driver to parties and events.

 

“H-hello I'm Clark K-kent from the Daily P-p-planet...I have a interview. With Bruce. Wayne! Bruce Wayne,” Clark wanted to the ground to open up and swallow him whole right this instant. Not only had he stuttered, but he had also called Bruce by his first name at a business meeting.

 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kent. I'm Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne family's butler. Master Bruce-” The tactful pause here made it clear he’d caught the slip up, and Clark could feel the uneasiness crawl from his stomach up his throat “-is waiting for you in his office. Please follow me.”

  
Alfred took Clark's coat and led him through a labyrinth of corridors, past countless closed doors and Clark lost any sense of direction. He not only couldn't tell anymore how they’d gotten here but he also couldn't say if they were still going in a particular direction or if they were just walking in circles. The mansion seemed to be a gigantic maze, and Clark really wished he still had his x-ray vision to help him navigate.

 

He nearly ran into Alfred when the man suddenly stopped and turned toward a door on one side of the hallway. Clark stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet. After two short knocks, the door was opened and Clark followed him into the elegantly furnished room. Bruce was sitting at a sturdy desk in front of a big window looking out onto the garden, and he looked right at Clark while the warm light of the sinking sun illuminated him from behind. He looked stunning with the red glow reflected in his dark hair, the softness of his skin, and the perfect jawline. Clark was staring open-mouthed, completely taken in by the beauty in front of him. He only snapped out of his trance when he noticed Bruce was looking at him expectantly and had probably said something.

 

“Ah.” Clark had to clear his throat at this point because his voice sounded hoarse and was barely audible. “I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that. Could you please repeat what you were saying?”

 

Bruce looked a bit dumbfounded for a few seconds, and Clark thought he must have messed up already. Then Bruce just started smiling fondly.

 

“It is nice meeting you again, even if I didn't think it would leave you speechless. Though I must say, even stunned you look easy on the eyes.”

 

Spots of deep crimson colored Clark's cheeks, and he couldn't really look at Bruce's face when he mumbled, “No, you are the one looking good today.”

 

Bruce smile grew even brighter at the compliment, and he gestured for Clark to sit. “So let's get the interview over with. Alfred will be disappointed if we are late for dinner.”

 

In Clark's defense it was normal to squeak a little if you found yourself suddenly invited to dinner by Bruce Wayne himself in his mansion. He was well-known for barely tolerating the press in his house at all, preferring to get anything over with at galas or at the Wayne Enterprises office.

 

He didn't want to cause any trouble, and he hadn't even brought any gifts, so he politely refused, but Bruce insisted. He talked about how late it already was and how Alfred would not approve of a guest leaving hungry.

 

“Do you mind if I record the conversation?”

 

Clark asked a bit shyly while getting pen and paper from his back. He know he was a bit old fashioned like this but he liked to have something to write on while talking. He skipped through his extensive notes he made in the past days to ground himself and looked nervously at Bruce for taking so much time to prepare. The billionaire was probably used to way faster and better organized interviewers. But Bruce smiled and gestured for Clark to take his time while getting some tea from a tray, Alfred had brought silently into the room.

 

“Why don't we start with you telling me about the new security system Wan tech wants to release next month, with it being the occasion leading to this interview. I know most of it is still a secret but there must be some non confidential information.”

 

Bruce smiled at this he must have expected this question and should have gotten public data from his PR management. But he surprised Clark when he started talking without looking at any notes.

 

“Well first of all, it is not a completely new system like the media made it out to be. It is strongly based on the prototype DK318 we produced for the military three years ago. The contract for this system expired two months ago so the full rights fell back to Wayne tech. But I'm also happy to announce that this didn't end our partnership with the military and they are using a new system special designer for their needs with no issues so far.”

 

Clark had read an article about the old security system and the high praise it got from the military. No wonder they stayed with Wayne technology and got another system from them.

 

“DK318 provides consistency in business operations, safety of tangible assets, intellectual property and, above all, human life. A system which could also be very useful in the private sector. We modified it so it could be used in companies by simplifying it and improved the usability for normal employees without special training. 

It will be customized for every individual client and can include services like Perimeter securityCCTV, multi-layered access control, various sensors and detectors, such as infrared or laser, intruder alarm, fire alarm and a attached extinguishing system. 

Our system is easily expandable for clients wishing for a higher security level with entry and search control, barriers and safety doors, bug proof communication or data protection. The firewall used for data protection is state of art and even capable of defending against big scale attacks. It has counter measurements against 97 percent of all known viruses and Trojan which makes it better than Luthor's system by 14 percent. Our team of specialist work in shift to always update the system when a new threat appears and we strive to make it to one-hundred percent. Our system is also way faster than Luthor's system by running on servers with higher computational power.”

 

Bruce was well informed and concentrated, not flirty at all and acted professional in general. This stood in complete contrast to the story's he had heard of other reporters after he started to collect everything he could find about Bruce. Most people described him as drunk idiot, who had no idea about what was going on in his company. But he did know what he was talking about and what he could reveal and what he shouldn't. Clark could not really understand why there was such a difference but he liked this Bruce way better than the ones of the story's.

 

“So you think your system will be a success and will triumph over Luthor's system?”

 

“Oh yes absolutely, we already have contracts with a lot of big name companies, airports, retail shops, industrial enterprises, financial and governmental institutions, schools, medical facilities, power-, oil and gas companies and private citizen. We are also still negotiating with a lot of interested parties. Luthor on the other hand is still dealing with some PR problems after the accusation of him using his position and money to secure advantages with the government. Even if there is no prof it still cause uncertainty for a lot of people.”

 

The competition between him and Luther seemed to really rill him up and it was most likely on a more personal level. With so much money and more important personal pride at risk it was no wonder he made sure he had a high chance of winning before starting this competition. It was a bold move to announce the reassessment in the same week.

 

“What about the break in at Luthor's part of the docks. Rumors has it Wayne tech was somewhat involved in it. Something easily believable with the heated competition:”

 

Bruce tensed up at this question. This accusation had been made a lot since the indent even if there was no connection. Clark was there he knows. So he was a bit surprised when Bruce not just denied it and went on with the interview. He didn't really need this in his interview so he continued to ask about the system, the gala at the release date and try to get some good quotes. Bruce relaxed when the conversation returned to easier topics and they finished quickly. Clark had way more than he thought he would get out of this and was delighted. Perry would be proud of him. With this out of the way the could have a nice dinner together.

 

The dining room was as impressive as the rest of the house, and Clark was once again plagued by self-doubt as he followed Bruce through the big door. The table had already been set with expensive tableware, artfully folded napkins, and different kinds of glasses and knifes. Clark had never really eaten in expensive restaurants expect for the few times he’d had to cover some award ceremony with Lois, and back then Lois hadn't really cared if he used the dishware properly, too busy being excited about the award. And Clark knew he would utterly embarrass himself even more this evening. He wriggled about on his chair and didn't really know what to do with his hands or where to look.

 

Luckily he was saved from his uncertainty when Alfred came into the room with a serving trolley and started filling their glasses with wine and ladling soup into their bowls. It was really delicious, nearly as good as his mom’s cooking, and after hesitating at the beginning, Clark felt his tension easing. Although he didn’t know how much of that could be blamed on the wine.

Being able to get drunk was another new thing he’d only experienced after losing his powers. Even if he missed his powers when he’d suffered a hangover the first time he had drunk too much alcohol.

 

He hadn't eaten so well in months, and his stomach seemed to have decided this was the day it suddenly no longer had problems with consuming food.

 

They talked about interests and hobbies, but mostly about their childhoods. He told Bruce about growing up in Smallville, and Bruce told him about Gotham; it was really pleasant. He learned a lot about Bruce and found himself growing more and more relaxed. And this was the moment he messed up. He thought now might be a good time to act on the idea he had had last night and had wanted to try if the mood was right.

 

In his defense, he was at his wits‘ end when it came to Batman. He had tried his best to find out anything about him after the the thievery, but the guy was a really specialist in keeping everyone in the dark about his existence, and even with all of Clark's efforts, he didn't really know much more than he had before. But he needed to learn more, to assure himself he was not in danger of the Bat suddenly showing up on his doorstep to get rid of him.

 

“I have a question for you, Bruce. What is your position on the Bat vigilante in Gotham?”

 

Not a really good way of asking, seeing how Bruce‘s face fell and he looked at Clark with a big frown on his face. For a reporter, Clark had an uncanny gift for bad phrasing, not to mention a complete lack of tact when conversing.

  
There was a uncomfortable silence between them for some more time. But then Bruce was assessing him, looking right through him, and Clark felt like he was only a nuisance Bruce would get rid of if the situation demanded it. And Clark felt absolute terror creeping up his spine, like he was completely at Bruce's mercy if the other man should decide taking action was necessary. Which was ridiculous; he was sitting in front of Bruce at a fine dinner table, both of them in suits. And Bruce was a nice person.

But thankfully the moment passed, and Bruce sent him a lopsided smile. Clark slumped down into his chair, his heart fluttering in his chest.,

 

“Well I don't really know. I never really met the guy, but I‘ve heard he saved some people so I'm willing to forgive him his bad fashion choices.”

 

 

Clark's jaw nearly dropped. He just couldn't believe Bruce didn't really have an opinion on the guy.“Civil liberties are being trampled on in your city. Good people are living in fear.”

 

Bruce looked to the side for a short moment, clearly trying to find a way to diffuse the situation, which was clearly steering in an ugly direction. In the end, he turned back to Clark and looked him directly in the eyes when he continued speaking, trying to put an end to this line of conversation.

 

“Don't believe everything you hear, son.”

 

Resigned, Clark smiled sadly. He remembered his last meeting with the Bat very well and knew what the man had done. From the way Bruce held himself he clearly also knew.

 

“I've seen it, Bruce. He clearly thinks he is above the law.”

 

But Bruce most likely already knew this, and just like everyone in Gotham, was still protective of the Dark Knight. Still, Clark had hoped he would be able to see eye-to-eye with Bruce on this. Clark wasn't ready to give in and accept a man like Bruce—a great man, a kind man, a caring man—was a supporter of Batman and all the crimes he committed. Not after what Clark had witnessed on the deck. He had to do something to help Bruce see reason and get him back onto the right side again. But before he could argue any further, Bruce switched the argument around, and Clark dropped his fork, totally shocked.

 

“Someone working for the Daily Planet criticizing those who think they are above the law is hypocritical, wouldn't you say? Considering every time your hero saved a cat out of a tree you wrote a puff piece. About an alien who, if he had wanted to, could have burned the whole place down. There would not have been a damn thing we could have done to stop him.”

 

Clark put his hands on the table to conceal the way they were shaking. He had completely ruined everything. They had been having a great evening, and he should have just left it at that. Or he should just have lived with Bruce defending the Bat; there must be some sort of hometown pride involved because they both where true Gothamites, even if he wished Bruce would look at the facts. He should have backed down when he noticed the argument getting heated.

 

But now out of nowhere Bruce was lashing out at Superman, a dead hero, as if he had personally harmed him, and Clark felt hurt. He wanted to curl up and cry. It was painful to see Bruce's hate directed at him, and he just couldn't understand the reason for it.

 

How could a person like Bruce, who was able to chat amiably with his rivals, get so spiteful the moment Superman was mentioned? What had Clark done to him to wound Bruce so badly he had to lash out like this? Whatever it was, Clark was so sorry for it. He wanted Bruce to tell him what he could do to undo it; he’d do anything. Or more likely, with him being unable to change anything, he wondered if he should fall on his knees right now and beg for forgiveness. If it could wipe the angry expression from Bruce‘s face and make it soft again, it would be worth anything.

 

He wanted to know the reason for Bruce’s anger, but he was afraid. Whatever happened must have been terrifying. He finally found his shaky and quiet voice, but he said something completely different from what he planned to. The moment the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. It sounded like he was accusing Bruce of being wrong, when clearly Clark was the one who had made mistakes and should apologize.

 

“Most of the world doesn't share your opinion, Bruce.”

 

Like he had feared, this was the wrong thing to say in this situation, and Bruce was clearly angry now.

 

“Maybe it’s the Gotham City in me. We just have a bad history with freaks dressed as clowns.”

 

The way his eyes wandered over Clark's body while he spoke made him stutter. Did Bruce want to imply something? Did he know about Clark's secret identity already? Or was he criticizing Clark's fashion sense? He knew he should have worn something else. Whatever it was, Clark wished Bruce wouldn't look at him in such a derogatory manner. He just wanted this man’s approval and not his judgment.

 

The atmosphere was tense, and they both sat there in silence for a long time. Clark had lost his appetite completely and just pushed the food around the plate, hoping it would be over soon.

He had no idea how he should apologize and save the evening, and every time he tried, he was instantly shut down or made the situation even worse. He really wished he was anywhere but here in this silent room, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wondered why Bruce hadn't already kicked him out.

 

As pissed as he was, Clark had expected to be screamed at, but this silence and ignoring was even worse. The forced and false politeness hurt Clark as much as the fact that he had forced this mask on Bruce. When the meal was finally over, he almost fled from the property and couldn't get to his taxi fast enough. He really hadn't wanted Bruce to get him a car, so he was glad when he was sitting in the shabby backseat of the vehicle.

 

He didn't sleep that night, too shaken up by Bruce’s words. He just couldn't stop thinking that if he hadn't brought up Batman, he would still have been able to stay close to Bruce. The billionaire had really no reason to waste his time with Clark, and now Clark had even managed to get on his bad side after all that had happened. He signed and dragged himself to work unmotivated and exhausted. He reported his success at the interview to Perry's delight and kept himself busy with work. Which was easy; it took almost two days of intense work with Lois until they were happy with it and could give it to Perry so it would be the big headline of tomorrows newspaper.

 

But the moment it was done and he had nothing more to occupy himself with, everything came crashing back on him. He really missed Bruce. It was laughable—he had meet the guy only three times in his life, and none of them seemed to be under good circumstances. Well, the last time, it had been Clark's fault but still. How could losing someone like this, someone who was barely more than a stranger, be so devastating and hurtful? Why couldn't Clark just move on with his life and concentrate on his own problems? He sure had enough of those. Why was he craving to hear Bruce voice every waking hour? He caught himself looking at the old text messages for hours. Whatever it was that pulled him to Bruce, he had no energy left to resist.

 

He wanted to be close to Bruce. He would make it right again; he would apologize and hope they could at least be friendly acquaintanceseven if he could not save the developing friendship.

 

Clark could ignore Bruce supporting Batman if it meant he could see him again. If he had to, he even could accept Bruce hating Superman. Clark was not—could not be—Superman, and it was time to stop looking back and trying to be someone he wasn't anymore. He was only human now and would live a normal life. He didn't have to care what people thought about Superman, he didn't have to save anyone when he clearly couldn't; he had to just try his best.

 

He could let other people do it. Even Batman, if the man wanted to. Clark didn't care anymore. He’d had enough. He had given everything he’d had to save others and would surely have given his life if he‘d had to. It was time he saved himself. And he just wanted to see Bruce again. Everything would be fine if he could just hear his voice again.

 

He would be able to sleep for more than a few hours a night and keep food down again. He would be able to smile again, and the damn shaking would finally stop. All he had to do was to pick up this phone and call Bruce. Or so he told himself, for days.

 

When he finally held his phone in hand, his nerves were shot and his pulse was fluttering. When he dialed the number he knew by heart now, he really hoped Bruce hadn't blocked him. His anxiousness rose with every ring of the phone until finally Bruce answered.

 

“What is it?”

 

He sounded exhausted and irritated, and Clark was already in the procress of hanging up. He didn't want to make Bruce even angrier, and if the man didn't want to talk to him, he would have to accept it. Or try again much later because he could not live without Bruce. But Bruce keep talking after a moment of confusion, and then sprang into excitement .

  
“Clark? It is you, isn't it?

 

Clark was nervous upon hearing the sudden change in the voice, not knowing why it was there. But at least it seemed like Bruce was not hanging up on him, and he even sounded a bit happy to get the call. This was definitely a start, and Clark could work with this if he was not actively hated.

 

“Y-Yeah it's me.”

 

He couldn't say anything more. He had this plan in his mind for how he should apologize and what he would say, but the words didn't come to him, and he was too stunned from Bruce's tone. The silence stretched uncomfortablybetween them, and Clark knew he had messed up again. He shouldn't have called without being sure he could fix it. But to his surprise, Bruce was the one speaking again first.

 

“I'm sorry, Clark. I shouldn't have insulted Superman in front of you. It was rude of me. Even with my not being a fan of his, it was obvious you have a personal connection and loyalty to him. I was just taking my frustration out on you, and it was totally uncalled for. I'm so sorry. I hope despite my foolish behavior we can still continue being friends. I would like to see you again soon. I can't make any promises not to offend you again, but I will try my best to hold back and not let the topic of Superman arise. My personal distrust for him should not be reason for us to fight.”

 

Clark's eyes had grown big, and he listened to Bruce’s voice, frozen in shock. He had been prepared for anything, but had not expected to be the one getting an apology from Bruce. There was a warm and happy feeling in his stomach. Bruce had missed him. He wanted to see him again. It was not all messed up and lost. Clark just couldn't stop smiling. There was nothing to forgive. It had never been Bruce's fault, and Clark was just so happy they were not fighting anymore. Clark got dragged back to reality when Bruce coughed uncomfortably at the other end of the line, clearly waiting for him to speak.

 

“It should really be me who should apologize. If I didn't ask questions about Batman for a story, it wouldn't have come to this. I would love to see you again. Are you free on Friday?”  
  


“So it was only for a story? I though you...never mind what I thought. I will come pick you up at six. Can't wait to see you again.”  
  


Clark didn't care what exactly Bruce had thought. He was just happy things were OK between them. He couldn't wait for Friday to come.

 

 


	5. The clash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Batman and Superman meet for the first time in costume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fist of all a big thank you again to [catty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattyk8/profile%22) for beta reading. She did a great job again and found a lot of errors my auto correct didn't catch.
> 
> On another note in this chapter there is a very brief mention of Superman thinking about something close to suicide. It is very brief on a few sentence but if you very sensitive about the topic I would recoment you to not read the chapter. I will but the the location in the end notes so you can skip it.

He was back. Superman was finally back.

 

A small giggle left Clark’s lips as he flew high above the clouds. He was happy to finally be able to fly again. The strong wind brushed against his face, and he could once again hear every little noise perfectly, though he always filtered out day-to-day noises, listening instead for sounds of distress or disaster. The ground was so far below him, everything looked like children’s toys—tiny houses, cars and trains. Clark was free again, and he couldn't help letting out an excited shout as he dove half way back to earth only to shoot back up again and rise even higher up in the sky. Even though it had been almost a week since he’d come back as Superman, he just couldn't contain his delight whenever he used one of his powers and it instantly responding to his will.

 

He paused before exiting the atmosphere and closed his eyes, listening to sounds from all around the world. At first it was nothing to special, just the usual noise of people living there lives. But then there was a terrified scream in a high-pitched voice, and when he listened closer, he heard other people shouting in terror and crying hysterically, the noise of steal breaking and an motor roaring in distress. Instantly he flew to the center of the commotion, breaking the sound barrier with a loud boom. He saw a train going way faster than it was supposed to, brakes glowing red from the strain of trying to get it to stop. But it was clear the train was going to crash into another train standing in the busy station ahead.

 

Clark dropped down without wasting any time. He had to stop this. A collision would hurt or kill not only the passengers on both trains, but also the bystanders in the station. Superman stood on the tracks with legs apart for a more stable stance and prepared for impact. Still, the force hitting him took his breath away for a moment, and he just got pushed back further and further as he strained against it with all his power.

 

He was rewarded for his effort and the train slowed down, but not enough to completely stop before it hit the other train. When his back crashed into the obstacle, the impact and pain knocked the air right out of his lungs again and there was pain in his back. It was a jarring reminder that while he might be wearing his cape again, he still wasn’t back to full power; he was sure to have dark bruises on his back for the next few days. But it was totally worth it. When the train finally came to a complete standstill and everyone went silent in shock, Superman looked around. Both trains were damaged and dented, and they were no longer standing on the tracks properly, but no one seemed badly hurt. Sure, some people had fallen down when the train stopped, but there were no serious injuries

 

Pride welled in Clark’s chest. He had done it. He’d saved these people, and it felt so good to finally be back and able to help people in need and not just read and write articles about the people he couldn't save. He didn't stick around for the reporters to ask questions he didn't want to answer. He also was tired, and he wasn’t sure if he could safely make his way home from France if he stuck around for the cleanup.

 

But even if he wasn't able to do as much as he did before his fight with Zod, he was still glad to be back to this extent. He didn't really know how or why, but it had happened.

 

OK, he kind of know the how—or, more accurately, the  _who_ . There was no doubt this was Bruce's doing. Even if there was still no answer as to why Bruce was able to do what he did. At first, he hadn't even noticed the billionaire had helped him regain his powers.

 

He’d just started to spend time with Bruce, giving the other man a bigger and bigger role in his life.

 

At first, it was nothing special. Bruce took him out to dinner in order to apologize—unecessarily, in Clark’s mind. But they both enjoyed their evening together, even though they were both walking on eggshells, afraid to offend each other again. Clark thanked Bruce afterward via phone, and then the texts started.

 

At first, it was only one or two per day, but the number increased, and they reached the point where Clark would wake up and look at his phone to see some good morning greeting from Bruce that never failed to put a big smile on his face. This extended to emails throughout the day, pictures of their lunches and good nights in the evening.

 

But it didn't stop there; when Bruce finally was too fed up with Clark trying to explain his articles for the fifth time via text, he just started calling him.

 

Clark had nearly had a heart attack when he’d first heard Bruce's voice on the other end, and even though he would never admit it, he’d dropped his phone.

 

“Really Clark, you are a reporter, for god’s sake. You should be better at writing texts. And a lot faster too. How can you be so slow?”

 

From this point on, they called each other every day and spoke for as long as their busy schedules allowed. Most of the time, they exchanged nothing more than a short greeting, but sometimes they talked for hours. About their day, work and interests or just stupid nonsense that happened, like the one time when Jimmy slipped and dropped his coffee on an angry Perry White.

 

Then Clark mentioned a fair in Metropolis on one occasion and got a positive reply almost instantly when he invited Bruce to go with him. And from this moment on, weekly meetings were a thing. They were not really dates, Clark told himself often. He could not be this greedy, but it sure felt like it sometimes, and he enjoyed them.

 

Being with Bruce was nice. Nice to an extent he never achieved with Lois. Don't get him wrong—being with Lois had been nice, magical even, but he had always been so careful and nervous about messing things up. He was never able to completely let go and enjoy himself. With Bruce it was different. Sure, he still worried a lot. How could he not? He had developed a crush on a billionaire and a man, but the first time Bruce stepped close to him and gave him one of his awkward half-hugs, he’d forgotten all about his nervousness until he’d been back at home.

 

At night he worried a lot. Sure, at first he had just been glad to be saved, and then he’d wanted a friendship with the man, seeing just how interesting Bruce could be when he let his walls down. But now, after having a good look behind the façade, he could feel himself falling for Bruce. And it was not a small crush or misplaced gratitude, but a mix of longing, happiness and insecurity—an ache deep inside his chest whenever he thought about the other man.

 

He had given up any thought of a serious relationship, knowing very well it would be impossible, and was now in the process of just enjoying the friendship and company Bruce offered him. And this would be almost perfect if it weren't for Lex Luthor. The man was a pest. He had started showing a deeper interest in Clark after the article he and Lois had written was published, and he’d turned up at the Planet to invite him for lunch a few times each week. Luckily, Clark’s powers had reappeared just in time for him to put them to good use, and so he was always conveniently out or nowhere to be found when Lex appeared.

 

But it not everything about it was bad. Lois had made it her personal crusade to make Lex's life a living hell. She still had not forgiven him for the panic attack he’d caused Clark to have at the party. His lewd looks when he spoke of Clark only made her more furious.

 

She took all of the interviews with him and always had time for lunch or even a quick coffee when Luthor showed up, and she could be really unpleasant to be around if she wanted to. And it was obvious she wanted to be; the whole Planet knew it by now, but no one was going to step into the line of fire between Lois and her target. People even started helping her by arranging for Lois to have more time to spend with Luthor. All of this resulted in them both deeply hating each other, and Clark was seriously impressed Lois hadn't pushed Luthor out of a window yet. She just stuck with passive aggressive comments, bittersweet smiles and wasting his time whenever she had a chance.

 

But Luthor was not the only thing worrying him. The other person causing him sleepless nights was the Gotham Bat. The guy went back into hiding the instant Superman came back, and it was very obvious he was planning his next actions. With Kryptonite, he had the upper hand should there be a fight between them, but Clark refused to be intimidated, unwilling to let anything stop him. Even if he was a bit scared. It also helped that he had found out the Bat could be reasoned with.

 

He had originally given up on researching the Bat, but then he’d gotten an anonymous tip. And from there he’d been drawn deeper and deeper into the enigma that was the vigilante. He’d found out the Bat had been active for way longer than everyone believed and was not as bad as a person as he had thought. In older reports, he sounded like a hero, a black guardian angel still brutal but always fair and brave. Clearly a good person who wanted to save people.

 

Then something had changed. Made him into a monster who ran amok and hurt people just because he could. Clark was still in the progress of finding out more, and he could not face the Bat without knowing what had set him onto the wrong path. But if he found out, he could try and find a way to help Batman retrace his footsteps and become a hero once again. But until then, he couldn't do much.

 

If the Bat tried something, he would run and hope he could escape to somewhere safe. If he kept enough distance between himself and the green rock, he would be able to use his powers. He still didn't know exactly what Batman's powers were, but they should be equals without the Kryptonite. So despite it not being the best plan, it should work out, and he could always think about what to do after he ran away. Maybe then Lois and he could come up with something better or find more information. But for now, he had no other option but to wait and avoid Gotham like it was some sort of warzone.

 

This was a self-imposed rule he was currently breaking, and he was already starting to regret it, even though nothing bad had happened so far.

 

He really hadn't planned to come here, but he had no other choice. On his way back from the train crash, he had noticed a suspicious truck with the LexCorp logo. This alone made him pause, but the lead lining didn't inspire any confidence that whatever it might contain was harmless. So he followed it, and they soon reached Gotham. Sure, he could have just flown around it and hoped the transport was indeed driving to Metropolis like he’d suspected, but this would still have left a chance of him losing it. So he’d yielded to his fate and followed it through the dark back alleys of Gotham, hoping the Bat had decided to stay home today.

 

He was not so lucky, and as they neared the docks, a shadow appeared at the edge of his vision. _Why does it always have to be the docks?_ , he thought when he shot to the side and put some distance between them. He tried to hide behind a big administration building but he had already been seen.

 

Clark looked after the truck longingly, but he had no chance to follow it when he also had to avoid the Bat. He didn't want to fight. With his new knowledge about the Bat, he just couldn't hurt him. Not when this was his only chance to gain an ally who might be able to understand him. And there was probably a reason why Batman hated him so much. When even kind Bruce hated Superman, then it was no wonder the Bat did as well. It seemed to be a Gotham thing. But if the vigilante would just listen to him, they could work out their differences and he would understand they were fighting on the same side.

 

He retreated when the Bat attempted to come closer, keeping a constant distance between them. When Batman noticed he could not get closer and the Kryptonite necklace around his neck was useless, he just stopped and stared at Superman full of hate. Or at least that’s what he assumed from the thinning of Batman‘s mouth and the hardening of his jaw—the only visible parts of the vigilante’s face. The cowl was lead-lined, and Superman wished he could see the other man’s eyes.

 

“Your plans will not succeed. I will stop you, and you will bleed”

 

Superman felt a shudder run down his spine. What plans? He didn't have any plans. He didn't even know the truck existed until an hour ago. And Batman had already attacked Lex, so why did he have a problem with Superman going after Luthor too?

 

“I don't understand. What plan? I was just following Luthor's truck. There is something wrong with it. If you don't want me in the city, I will leave right away, and you can have the truck if you want. I don't want to fight. Whatever it is you think of me, it is a misunderstanding”

 

This was apparently exactly the wrong thing to say because Batman ground his teeth and shouted angrily. “A misunderstanding? So that is what the people you have killed in your little fight with Zod are to you. Just a small mistake. Well, I'm sure we humans are nothing in comparison to you, alien.”

 

Superman froze in midair. So that was why Batman hated him so much and had obtained a way to put him down. He wanted revenge for the lives lost during Superman’s fight with Zod. And how could Clark deny it to him? He was right; it was Clark's fault. If only he had realized Zod's intentions sooner. If only he hadn’t been blinded by his excitement over finally meeting another one of his kind. If he’d had more fighting practice, he could have changed the outcome of it all, and all these people would not be dead. All the strength left his body, and he sank down to the fire escape of the building. He put up his hands in a surrendering gesture when Batman instantly grabbed the Kryptonite around his neck.

 

“I-I'm so sorry.” His voice broke, heavy with emotion, and he felt tears build up behind his eyes.

“It is my fault. If only I had done things differently, there would not have been so many people suffering. I would do anything to change it if I could. But I can do nothing. I'm not as powerful as you think I am. I can just try to do better, save people and make up for my mistakes.”

 

He looked at Batman, and the other man seemed to be shocked for a few moments. When he finally was composed again, he lashed out and only grasped the necklace harder.

  
“You’re a liar. Do you really think your acting could change my mind?!”

 

So this was it. He had no chance of reaching Batman with words, and with all the hate between them, he couldn't get him to understand. Giving up just like this was a cowardly thing to do. But he didn't want to run away anymore. He had run from his mistakes far too long, and he was tired. No matter what he did, he could never make up for the suffering he’d caused. Now was a good time to end it.

 

Clark would die here at the hand of another super powered being. Mom would be sad, Lois would be furious, and Bruce... he didn't really know how Bruce would feel, but he hoped he would be missed. He shouldn't wish Bruce to feel pain because of him, but he still hoped he would be remembered. He knew he should fight, but he just couldn't find the will for it. Batman was right. It had been his fault. If it weren't for him, Zod would never had come to Earth. He had made so many mistakes and done so little to make up for it.

 

The only thing he still wanted to do before accepting his fate was to save Batman. If he could direct the man toward the right path once again, to save people instead of branding them, the world would be safer and protected instead of threatened. And Batman needed someone to help him; he had clearly lost himself. Clark could not watch a great hero turn into a villain like this. He knew Batman could do good. He had done his research. There were reports from years ago about a black shadow saving people, even the villains. He had no doubt this had been a younger Batman, when he started using his power. Clark might not know what had happened to change him so much, but he knew the other man could do good.

  
“OK, have your way. I won't resist. But before you kill me, promise my one thing. After this, you will go back to your old ways. Saving people, protecting them. No matter who they are and what they have done. No more branding. No more serious injuries. Be a protector and not an executioner.”

 

Batman stared at him, but didn't let his guard down. He clearly didn't believe what he’d heard. But Clark would resist, at least for long enough to extract a promise from the vigilante, and he was not someone who was easily defeated. No matter what powers Batman might have. He would fight until the other man understood. Or at least, this was Clark's plan. Batman was the first to break the silence.

 

“I could lie, you know.”

 

“I know you wouldn't. I researched. You might be brutal, but you are not a person to break promises.”

 

“Then you also know I will not accept this. But I can promise you will bleed.”

 

Clark had failed again. The list just kept getting longer and longer. He flew back when Batman jumped and landed on the fire escape, a sharp-looking boomerang in hand. Clark knew how sharp this weapon was; one of these had impaled the wall next to his face not too long ago. He didn't want to hurt Batman, so he kept on running away and dodging. As long as he stayed out of the reach of the Kryptonite, he was fine. But he still needed to find a way to get the necklace away from Batman.

 

But he had underestimated Batman. The necklace was not the only weapon he had brought. When a projectile was fired at him, Superman didn't really think about it and reached up to capture it. The moment he held it in his hand, it exploded and green dust surrounded him. He dropped like a rock and hit a windowsill before he hit the ground. His ribs started to throb painfully. He really hoped nothing was broken.

 

He tried to hold on, and even though it hurt, he managed until a black glove collided with his face and knocked him back further. He barely registered the pain in his cheek when he cut it on the edge of a dumpster as he dropped, and his shoulder started screaming at him. He took in a few painful breaths and just stared at the sky and the dark figure looming over him, ready to attack again after gaining the upper hand.

 

When he finally felt like he was no longer about to pass out, he rolled away from the dumpster into a kneeling position. It took some effort, but he managed to get to his feet again and only needed to lean some of his weight on the dumpster to keep himself upright.

 

But it was far from over, and Batman dropped back down to attack again. Superman was barely able to stumble out of the way. Batman hadn't lied; he really did end up bleeding from scratches and cuts. He had the taste of copper in his month, either from his split lip or from the coughing to clear his throat. It was hard to tell if he had coughed up blood it felt like his organs wanted to come up out of his chest through his esophagus.

 

It really hurt, and he felt tears on his cheeks. Even if he had gotten used to feeling pain in the last few months, it hadn’t prepared him for this. The headache and sickness had caused him physical pain, but it had always been more of a mental problem. He had known his powers were at fault and that technically nothing was wrong with him. But now he knew his body was breaking.

 

Still, he would not give up before he had what he wanted. Batman would change his ways. And if he had to beat this message into him, he would. Or he would die trying. Yes, if he was realistic, he would probably die without achieving anything.

 

With this perspective, he realized he really needed a better plan. And for this, he just needed time to recover and think. Throwing a garbage bag at the Bat then running away was not the best tactic, but it worked. Batman stepped out of the way, clearly expecting something dangerous, but keeping his eyes on Superman when he stumbled back. This was a bad situation. He had achieved nothing, had no real plan yet, and didn't know how much longer he could hang on.

 

And just to make the situation even worse, his powers, already destabilized by the Kryptonite, choose this moment to break out of control again. He had really hoped to never feel the headache again, the way the pressure built up and the sickness it brought. He fought for control, trying to get the tears out of his eyes and air back into his lungs. He completely forgot about the threat coming his way, and when a heavy body slammed into him and he was thrown onto the ground, he lost himself completely. He would just pass out like this, beaten by his own powers. He could already see with his x-ray vision, but with the lead in Batman's uniform it didn't tell him much. His hearing also became more sensitive, and it got so loud.

 

The sounds came crashing down around him, and he closed his eyes, fighting the panic and trying to concentrate, to drown out the tortuous noise of Gotham. But then he heard it. The steady thump he had listened to so often. Everything around him just got quieter and quieter until there was nothing but the heartbeat. And by Rao, did he know this heartbeat.

 

He started at Batman in shock, not understanding what had happened. He didn't want it to be true, but there was no other explanation for this. It had to be Bruce. It was his heartbeat, after all. How could this have happened? How could the person he wanted in his life the most be the one trying to end it so badly? But ending it would almost be a mercy now. He could not go on living knowing Bruce not only hated Superman, but actively wanting to kill him. How could he want to survive when the person he loved would never accept him? The one who was this instant pressing his boot into Clark's chest, holding a Batarang in his hand ready to cut.

 

“B-Bruce...”

 

He didn't manage to say more. But he didn't need to. Batman jumped back and got some distance between them. And then he’d just stared. If Clark had had any remaining doubts about his identity,t they were now gone. Bruce wanted him dead, and there was nothing he could do to change his mind. He had tried. What else could he do? But if it really was over anyway, how much worse could it still get?

 

He didn't want to go without Bruce knowing about his secret identity. It was selfish and it would destroy all the good memories the man hopefully still had of him, but he didn't want to lie, not to Bruce. If this was really the end, he wanted nothing but the truth between them. He didn't want this big secret between them, and maybe, just maybe, this would change things. Even if his feelings were not returned, they were at least friends. That had to mean something. Could Bruce really kill Clark so easily if he knew it was him and not just some alien? When he knew Clark was just a person with weaknesses and faults.

 

The kind and understanding Bruce he had come to know could not be murderer. Clark would never believe it. And Clark would take his chances.

 

His hands trembled as he messed up his hair into his usual style, and Bruce let him do it, still too shocked to move. He gripped his glasses from the secret pocket he had his mother sew into his costume when he’d noticed he’d needed them to ground him after coming back as Superman. When he looked at Bruce again, all Clark Kent now rather than Superman, he heard the startled intake of breath. The revelation didn't leave Bruce unfazed, and Clark felt the first flare of hope. He really did.

 

“It is me, Bruce. I'm so sorry, but it has always been me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know ao3 to well but you should be able to skip the part with the normal search option when you look for the lines. So the two pharagrap you should skip beginns after:
> 
> He looked at Batman, and the other man seemed to be shocked for a few moments. When he finally was composed again, he lashed out and only grasped the necklace harder.  
> “You’re a liar. Do you really think your acting could change my mind?!”
> 
> It is safe to read after:
> 
> The only thing he still wanted to do before accepting his fate was to save Batman. 
> 
> Basicly in this part Superman just fels guilty for the lives lost in his fight with Zod


	6. The truth is out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman doesn't react well to finding out about Clark beeing Superman. He starts a fight for survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thankfull [catty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattyk8/profile%22) beta-read this chapter ahain. There were so many mistakes I overlooked and they would be in this chapter otherwise. So thank you for taking the time and checking it over catty.
> 
> We are getting closer to the end and the chapters keep getting longer XD

“You?!”

 

How had he failed to notice before, when now it seemed so obvious? There had been so many little clues. Sure, they had all been subtle, barely noticeable, but Batman was the world’s greatest detective. Solving crimes and mysteries was something he did every single day. He had learned everything he could about observation and deduction so he never had to back down until he’d solved a case.

 

Bruce should have figured it out long ago or at least suspected something. But he had been completely shocked by this revelation. This possibility had never even crossed his mind.

 

But considering the truth, everything made sense now. It explained why he had kept meeting Clark, seemingly by coincidence. But in reality, it had never been a coincidence at all. It was so much more logical that the alien had planned it all to get to him. Sure, he had been suspicious after meeting him at his office, but he had dismissed it, given Clark's health situation. The terrible and cruel illness had always been present when he met Clark at first, only to abruptly get better as they spent more time together.

 

The helpless act had lowered Bruce's guard, awoken his protective instinct and lulled him into a false sense of security. After all, who would suspect Superman, all-powerful god, of being so defenseless? A god was also not human, and Clark had sure presented himself like one when they had started to spend more time together. Always cheerfully smiling at Bruce, standing close and casually touching him. The cute way he had stumbled over words when he got too excited had seemed absolutely human.

 

This perfect act had concealed all the mistakes he had made and had allowed him to worm his way deeper into Bruce's life. Now he understood why Clark had gotten so angry about Bruce insulting Superman. No monster wanted a mere human to talk down to him like this.

 

But it had been conspicuous, and Bruce should have investigated. Would have investigated, under normal circumstances. After all, Clark had also been present at the dock when Bruce had been looking for Kryptonite. And he had made trouble for Batman by needing to be saved, or so he’d believed at the time.

 

Superman had also gotten a closer look at the way the Bat worked and what tech he had on hand. This made it easier to come up with countermeasures. But the thing that made Bruce's blood boil the most was the fact Superman had come into his house. His safe place, where the small remainder of what family he still had lived, defenseless against a powerful alien.

 

And Bruce had allowed him willingly into his home, had welcomed him with open arms. He’d been too blinded by his emotions to see the truth in front of him. Too eager to be able to trust somebody again. To trust Clark. He’d even wanted to protect him at all cost. This kindness had been a mistake he now had to pay for.

 

And this even after all of Bruce's efforts to distance himself from the world and his emotions.

 

Involving his feelings could lead to nothing besides disaster and misery. He should have known this. It was a lesson he had learned well after what had happened to Rachel. He had never gotten over losing her so brutally to the Joker. Having the responsibility for her death on his shoulders had nearly broken him. But he had learned to live with the guilt.

 

And he had even thought he could love again, thanks to Clark. It had finally seemed like it was worth living again, for reasons besides his mission as Batman. How foolish he had been, to allow himself to be manipulated like this and losing his heart in the process.

 

This was why the mission should always come first. Not because he really thought it was more important than anything else in the world, but because it protected him. It was the only thing that kept his soul from falling apart. The mission brought only physical pain, and this he could handle with ease. It was a constant part of his life; he had learned to endure, and for most part he could just ignore it.

 

But feelings were to harder to predict. They hurt in a different way, deeper; and he had no real way to protect himself from this pain. He could not endure it. That was why his walls were so important. They allowed him to keep him going. Bruce could not have continued to live with all that hurt and sadness after what had happened to Jason.

 

His sweet, loving and kind son. His angry, foul-mouthed and harsh son. The steady presence at his side, who had filled his life with such joy. It didn't matter what faults he had had or what wrongs he had committed. Bruce had still loved him, still loved him even now, no matter what happened. No matter how much time passed, this would never change.

 

And he missed him. He still missed him so badly. Jason had been taken from him so brutally, and Bruce regretted it every single day. If only he had been faster, if only he had listened to him, if only he had trusted his son more, all this could have been prevented. But it was too late, and everything was Bruce fault. If only he could bring him back.

 

He would do anything to change the past, to hold his little baby in his arms again. He would even break his one rule if it would change anything. He would happily become a monster, but it would not bring his little bird back to him. He could cry, scream, and suffer as much as he wanted to, but it would not change the facts. He was alone. So alone.

 

Bruce had thought about following his child into death quite often, but if there was some sort of afterlife, Jason would be furious at him for leaving Alfred like this. For just giving up. So Bruce continued on and tried to prevent something like this from happening ever again. No parent should have to bury their child.

 

He needed to be the protector Jason should have had, no matter the cost. No matter who he had to hurt in the process, even himself. He’d built the walls around himself higher and higher and tried to numb the feelings eating him from the inside. Tried to become the cold beast everyone started to see him as.

 

After all these years, these feelings had only started to ebb away when he had been with Clark. Surrounded by the calming, warm presence of the man he had learned to love. Bruce had smiled genuine smiles again, something he’d thought would never happen again, having resigned himself to the facade he put up in public.

 

He had made plans besides what he would do the next night and who to hunt down. Had concentrated on other things beside casework. Had gotten up when the sun was still high and done something with his days instead of wasting them away. He had been happy, he had loved. And all this thanks to the guy who had easily dismantled his shields in a few short meetings. The one who had crept into his heart so easily, only to tear it out with his bare, bloody hands to crush it right in front of Bruce's face. He could have killed Bruce in an ambush at any time without him knowing a thing, but he’d had to do it this way. He’d had to showing Bruce how stupid he’d been and rub salt in the open, bleeding wound.

 

“You betrayed me.”

 

His voice was calm, cold, devoided of all emotion despite the hurt and anger he felt. His face was a mask of professional indifference. Like he was talking about the weather and not his world lying in pieces before him. Like this didn't even concern him.

 

 

“You played with me, manipulated me. Quite impressive, I must say. I could not have made a better plan. Well done. You missed your true calling—your acting skills are quite impressive. Your breakdowns were especially convincing.”

 

Bruce was relaxed, easily brushing the dirt from the fight off his suit while speaking languidly. As if the act of treason he was speaking about didn't matter to him.

 

Clark, on the other hand, seemed shocked, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open a bit, but also a bit panicked, given the way his eyes jumped around over Bruce's face. But his expression soon shifted to utter confusion. His brows were slightly raised and drawn together, his lips pouted in the cute way they always did when he was thinking intensely, and his eyes grew large, as if pleading for someone to talk to him.

 

He was really keeping up the Clark Kent act even though Bruce had seen through him. Superman really wanted to rub in the fact that he had beaten Batman. But it was still effective. His little play had bought him enough time for the Kryptonite dust to slightly wear off so he could get back on his feet.

 

“Wait! What are you talking about about, Bruce? I would nev....”

 

“DON'T CALL ME THAT! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!”

 

The facade of indifference was dropped instantly when hot anger flashed inside Bruce. _How dare Superman call him by his name after all he had done? How could he think he still had the right to it?_ Only the people close to him got to call him by the name his parents gave him. The rest got Wayne, Brucie or Batman. But never Bruce. Bruce was special.

 

“YOU HAVE ALREADY WON! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME? DO YOU WANT TO COMPLETELY DESTROY ME? DO YOU WANT TO SEE MY ON MY KNEES? JUST TRY IT! I WILL NOT JUST GIVE IN!”

 

He balled his fists until his hands started to hurt. If the alien really wanted to fight, he would get the battle of his life or hopefully his death. Bruce was angry, and he would take Superman down, no matter what the cost might be. It was hard to tell if his eyes were wet from hurt or anger, but either way he was glad his mask hid his tears. He could not show sorrow. He would not allow the alien the satisfaction of seeing him broken.

 

“Bruce, please. I was wrong. You have to listen to me—”

 

Superman started to stride in Bruce's direction, while the other took a small step back, and then another. Their feet splashed through the puddles left by the heavy rain of this afternoon. It had lasted the whole day, only stopping at long last when the sun had set half an hour ago.

 

“Lex—”

 

Now he even got the guts to bring up his rivalry with Luthor. Knowing very well about the bad blood between them. Heck, he had covered the topic in an article and had done his research. He knew of all the times Luthor had tried to take over poor Brucie’s company, to ease the burden off his shoulders. The times when he had tried to drive Wayne Enterprise to ruin to extend his own empire. But the worst things were the ones unspoken. When Lex talked down to Bruce like he was five and didn't understand anything. He treated him not only like he was just a pretty face but like he was just interested in his body. Always standing in Bruce's personal space, casually touching him and making nasty comments.

 

Once, Bruce had made the mistake of meeting Lex alone, and the other man had groped him. Bruce had just wanted to punch him, and it had been humiliating that he couldn’t do it without the risk of revealing his secret identity. He had fled the room first chance he’d gotten before anything else could happen. Afterward, he had gotten many business proposals with the condition he spend the night with Lex. It had disgusted him. The man really had no shame, and Bruce would not just listen while Superman ripped open old wounds.

 

“—is planing to—”

 

Superman got interrupted again, this time not by angry shouting but by a grenade thrown at his feet. This stopped him for exactly as long as it took him to step on it and destroy the device with a crushing sound under his boot. Then he just moved forward like nothing had happened. His cape swished softly behind him.

 

It was weird seeing Superman but also seeing Clark at the same time, with his stupid messy hair and the big glasses in front of his blue eyes. And it hurt so bad to see him like this. Having to fight him.

 

Bruce had no problem fighting and even killing Superman, but Clark was a different story. He didn't want to cause Clark pain. But he had no other choice if he wanted Gotham and humanity to be safe. If Superman could manipulate and play with Batman like this, there was no telling what he would to with the rest of the world. He had to end this—

 

“You don't understand!”

 

Superman was still trying to fool him, but Bruce had enough of Superman's mind games. Of hiding in the shadows. He started to move towards Superman until they stood face to face. He bared his teeth at the other man, disgusted by every little thing that reminded him of Clark. He wanted the resemblance to be gone so he could once again see the monster in front of him clearly.

 

“I understand!”

 

He only realized the mistake he had made when he was suddenly was flung back by a strong force to his chest and his back collided with the ground. His shoulder blades screamed in protest when they crashed against the unforgiving asphalt, stopping his movements after he skittered for a few meters. They took the worst of the force, but the rest of his back also took damage from the brute strength. His back burned from the impact and friction.

 

Losing his best friend and anchor had shocked him more than he had anticipated. So much so, in fact, that he hadn't even noticed Superman was no longer affected by the Kryptonite around his neck. Bruce had only gotten so close to the alien in the hope that the rock would take effect and weaken the alien again. A big miscalculation. It hadn't worked at all. No wonder, as when Bruce grabbed at his neck, it was empty. He didn't know when or how, but between the revelation and now, Superman had managed to get the necklace away from him. And with this was his biggest defense.

 

With Bruce helpless like this in the face of superhuman powers, the alien had showed his real face. He‘d suddenly appeared above Batman and picked him up with one hand, only to fling him to the side again with even more vigor behind the move than the last time.

 

Bruce made a pained noise when his already battered back hit the ground again. His vision faded to white for a few heartbeats. He grasped for air, but could not get any into his lungs. The hot flames in his back burned away every thought as he tried to muster his strength and was left nothing except pain. The protection of his suit had protected him, and he would be dead without it, but it was still to much for him to handle. His shoulder felt wrong. He could still move it, although with great pain, he noticed when he carefully tested it only to find something was wrong with it.

 

How quickly their roles had reversed. Not so long ago, Bruce had stood above Superman, suppressing his power and seemingly wining. But this fight had never really been in his favor. All it had token to take him out was the truth. A plan months in the making.

 

And Bruce had thought he could win with his stupid little gadgets. Now it was Bruce who was shakily trying to get back to his feet with a distressed groan.

 

“Stay down. If I wanted it, you would be dead already. But I don't want to hurt you, Bruce.”

 

Bruce did not listen. Communication had never been his strong point. So he got up anyway. He slowly got a smoke grenade from his utility belt and pulled the pin with a metallic sound, deliberately showing it to Superman before he tossed it at Superman's feet. Like he had anticipated Superman, didn't even think it was worth it to move out of the way and just kept standing there when the smoke started to fill the air between them. When finally the imposing figure broke through the smoke, Bruce was not where he had been moments ago, but standing behind Superman in a perfect position to attack.

 

When Superman whirled around, Bruce had already flung another grenade at his face. This one was caught. But this didn't make it less effective. When it exploded, it was not only black smoke that came out. The air was polluted with heavy smoke and a shimmering green glitter. It looked almost pretty, the way the light made the dusted rock shine, but it was deathly. And the doses were way higher than the previous ones.

 

“Breathe it in.”

 

Bruce’s voice was raspy and deep. He was still slightly out of air from the hits he had taken. Every breath hurt, and it took some effort to do more than gasp shallowly. The smoke surrounding them, which he inhaled, didn't help. But he was way better off than Superman. At least he could still breathe without getting poison in his lungs. And thanks to the first surprised breath Superman was now human enough to not be able to just stop breathing like he would normally do.

 

Bruce waited while Superman coughed but it only forced him to take more poison in. It was Kryptonite or suffocating with him, not being able to find a way out of the smoke screen. Superman stumbled around aimlessly in the smoke, growing more and more panicked. Until he finally fell to his knees and started clawing at his throat in fear, leaving red bloody marks. Interestingly enough, his body reflexes in response to choking was the same one a human would have. But the fight left him very quickly, and only panicked gasps escaped him. He grabbed at his chest in agony. His blue eyes were wide with terror and shimmered full of unheeded tears.

 

“This is fear. How does it feel to be human, alien?”

 

But Superman did not just give up and accept his fate. He got up with shaking legs and tried to attack even in the weak condition he was in. At least he was determined and strong-willed. Bruce would have felt even more humiliated if someone weak had deceived him.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a fist thrown at his face. He noticed with satisfaction that Superman was not only slow, but he could easily stop the punch with a single hand, barely feeling any force behind it. He closed his fingers around the other man’s fist with enough force to make it hurt. He held his grip even though Superman struggled and tried to get free with all of his power. It was simply laughable how easy it was.

 

Another fist was aimed at Bruce, but he just leaned back a bit and it missed him entirely. Superman was reduced to being as weak as a mere human, but he still kept on fighting, punching and kicking. Bruce was kind of impressed, even if the alien didn't manage to get a single hit in.

 

It became obvious Clark had had no formal training whatsoever. His movement was uncoordinated and ineffective. He must normally get by with using brute strength, just punching everything in his way until it broke. His powers were wasted on him. He didn't have any idea how to use his full potential.

 

But it played in Bruce's favor if the Man of Steel didn't know exactly how he could utilize his abilities. Otherwise, Bruce would probably not have been able to do anything before being burned to a crisp by Superman’s laser eyes. Bruce had been underestimates, and he made full use of his advantage. He got some heavy strikes in, making Superman scream in anguish when Batman's fist hit his side.

 

“STOP! PLEASE....just...stop. Please...”

 

Good, he should suffer. This was nothing compared to the pain he had caused. No amount of injury could make up for the people who had suffered and died because of him. But it felt right to see him pay like this. Bruce would get vengeance for all of those who couldn't fight for themselves anymore. Who had to live in misery now. Who had lost someone. And it was selfish, but he would also get his revenge for having his world broken apart. For the hurt he felt inside.

 

“Bru—”

 

He pushed Superman sideways against the banister of some stairs. There was a sickening crack from broken ribs, and Batman couldn't help but feel it was deserved. His fist struck the other man right in the stomach, pushing him back a step. He tumbled over and curled in on himself, whimpering and holding his midsection.

 

Using this new angle to his advantage, the Bat grabbed a fistful of Superman's dark hair and pulled him halfway to his feet again. He held him there for a few moments, taking in the distorted facial features and the tear tracks running down his cheeks.

 

But the moment passed, and he suddenly smashed Superman's head against the edge of the stairs, not losing his grip on his hair. The alien's body went slack in his iron grip, so Batman’s fist was the only thing holding him up. Superman was still conscious, but his eyes were unfocused, staring into the empty air to Bruce's left. Blood tickled down his temple and dripped to ground. The scratches on his neck soaked the collar of his uniform a brownish red.

 

“B-Bru....Bruce.” It came out broken and faint. “Bruce. Calm...calm down. Please...”

 

_Stay calm. He is just toying with you. Don't listen. He’s just trying to save himself._

 

Bruce breathed in heavily, and he could feel the ache in his body. Wetness at his back made the uniform stick to his skin unpleasantly. His cape hung tattered behind him. But it had been worth it. Now he towered over Superman. He had beaten the alien despite all odds.

 

But somehow he didn't feel happy or victorious. While he fought, he’d been high on adrenaline, blocking out everything else. He didn't have time to think of anything except how to survive, but now... now, with Superman so helpless and human, he could only see Clark bleeding in front of him. And it hurt. He had wanted to protect him, be there for him when he needed him, stand by his side when no one else would. But he had hurt him. Guild crept up Bruce's spine as he watched the blood on Clark's face, the black eye and the swollen lip.

 

“It.. it's okay....not yo-your fault.”

 

The words stung. But he wanted nothing more than to believe they were true. For it would mean there was still a chance to end this without spilling more blood. He didn't want to do this, but he had to end this. There was no other way. He could not imprison Superman forever, and left to do what he wanted Superman, would bring end to humanity.

 

Knowing all this didn't make it any easier for Bruce. In the end, Superman's plan would still succeed to some extent. Even if he had lost to Batman, he had still won in a twisted way. Bruce knew he would never get over having to kill his beloved. The blood would forever stain his hands. After tonight there would be no more Batman. And maybe not even a Bruce Wayne anymore.

 

“I'm sorry. It..it's my fault.”

 

Superman reached for him desperately with a shaking hand, but Bruce just slapped the hand away. Completely shocked. What was Superman doing? Did he really think Batman would spare him just because he acted like Clark? It would not stop him. But it still pulled at some part buried deep inside of Bruce.

 

He lowered the other man to the ground, much gentler than he should have been. Carefully, he laid him at the ground. There was no really force behind it when he put his boot on Superman’s neck. He barely touched the skin. It was more of a gesture to show dominance than something meant to hold Superman in place. Bruce could curse his weakness, but he was simple not able to cause any more unnecessary pain. He didn't want to see Clark suffer. To aggravate the wounds before it all had came to an end.

 

“I lied. I should have never...n-never to you.” Big blue eyes stared up at him, shimmering, wet, and full of sorrow. Clark's lips trembled as he forced them into a sad smile.

 

Bruce took out a sharp Batarang from his belt and instantly dropped it. He stared wide eyed at his shaking fingers in confusion. _What was going on?_ He had used Batarangs so many times before, it had become routine. Batman could do it in his sleep. He had thrown Batarangs while heavily bleeding and drifting into unconsciousness and had still hit his target. So what was wrong with him to just drop it like this?

 

_Keep on breathing. Calm down._

 

And he did just that. He breathed. In and out. Trying to get his control back, lower his heartrate again, and stop the shaking. When he felt somewhat calm, he tried again. This time he could hold a Batarang between his still-trembling fingers. But he just stared at the pale face under his foot, not able to move an inch. Even if he knew the Kryptonite would lose its effect soon.

 

“Bruce, I..I know...you will never forgive me. It's fine. I under... I messed up. More tha—”

 

Superman was interrupted by wet coughing. Air rattled in his chest. Blood dripped from his lips, coloring his teeth a deep crimson, and he had to twist to the side and spit it out before he could continue.

 

“I so sorry... Never wanted to hurt y-you. Never. You are the best... best thing in my life...”

 

Clark had to stop for air. It was getting harder for him to talk, and it must have taken a lot of effort to do it at all in his condition. Most people in his situation would have just passed out.

 

“You are...are important. My light. B-Bruce...I....I....from the start. I need you. Always. Ca-can't live without you...”

 

_Why couldn't he just end this and put this behind him? Why did the other man have so much power over him?_ Bruce didn't want to listen, but he was captivated by the other man’s words. He was not able to take his eyes of Clark.

 

“I-I love you, Bruce.”

 

Bruce felt like he had been hit by a wave of cold water. He was frozen stiff. Shocked. He didn't understand. He looked down and saw his boot still resting on Clark's neck. The image burned like a flame, and instantly he raised his foot and stumbled back a step. He stood swaying for a moment, thinking about putting some distance between them, but he couldn't. He felt to his knees when the shaking got to strong for him to stay upright. The weight of the Batsuit too much for him to handle. His knees hit the asphalt on either side of the other‘s mans chest.

 

The weapon now tightly clutched in both hands was still raised in the air, ready to strike. But he was just frozen in this position. Tremors ran through his whole body. His vision was blurry, and he took a few seconds to notice he was crying. Helplessly weeping, in fact; tears streamed down his face under his mask, making the material sticky and uncomfortable. He was not able to clear his vision by blinking, so he reached up and shoved the cowl back to rub frantically over his eyes. But it was no use since new tears instantly replaced the old ones. It got harder to breathe. He gasped for air between sobs, curling in on himself until he nearly laid himself flat on Clark’s body. His head was already touching the others chest. He clutched the weapon tightly to his chest, though it still pointed at Clark. But the grip was weak. It nearly slipped out of his fingers.

 

He flinched when he abruptly felt a hand laid on his cheek. Bruce tried to get out of reach, but his movements were to uncoordinated, and he was leaning to heavily on Clark, not able to support himself. But instead of painful, the touch was soft and caring. Bruce was confused, and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision, but only stared in bewilderment when he saw Clark tenderly smiling up at him. His thumb rubbed away the tears, and he caught the weapon when Bruce's fingers went slack and he dropped it. His other arm came up around Bruce's back, pulling Bruce forward until he was pressed against Clark's warm body.

 

He struggled weakly, without getting free. Batman was a trained fighter, and Superman had lost his power at the moment. If he really had wanted to get out of this position, he would have, but he felt warm and safe. Clark was soothingly combing his fingers through Bruce's sweat-soaked hair.

 

It was foolish and dangerous, Bruce knew this. He had given Superman time to recover and left himself open for attacks. The other man had put the Batarang somewhere, probably someplace within reach.

 

But after all that had happened, all the lies and the betrayal, he still wanted to be close to Clark. He had wanted for so long to be close to him like this. To hear the other man’s heartbeat so close. He didn't want to move. And he still trusted Clark. It was funny, but after everything he’d learned, he still trusted him. He didn’t trust Superman to cancel his plans to take over humanity or to stop hurting others, but he did know the other man would not use this situation to hurt Bruce. He lay protected in the arms of an all-powerful god.

 

“Shh, Bruce, it is fine. You are safe. Don't cry, please. I never wanted to make you cry. Not because of me. No one wants to see their loved ones in tears.”

 

Bruce's breath hitched when he heard the confession. This was the second time Clark had said something foolish like this. He shouldn't believe it. How could he? It didn't make sense. It had all Superman’s been only a strategy. But now Superman no longer had anything to gain from this charade. He had already won Bruce over. Batman had stopped fighting. _Or was it a lie? Had Superman developed feelings for Bruce in the time they‘d spent with Bruce?Could a god really love a human?_

 

“L-liar.”

 

The voice was soft, and it trembled. It didn't come out as fierce and angry as Bruce had wanted it to. His insecurity showed. He really did want it to be true, and his resolves wavered. Was it really so bad of him to believe in the lie a bit longer? To want this warm feeling in his chest to stay? He was not sure what to think anymore, and his thoughts just ran in circles. But at least the crying had run its course, and he had stopped struggling.

 

“It is not a lie, Bruce. I love you. I fell for you a long time ago. From the first time we met, I just had eyes for you.”

 

Clark cradled Bruce's face in his caring hands and looked him in in the eyes, still smiling. He was so gentle despite the power he had. It didn't make sense. Bruce knew that, by now, the Kryptonite should have dissolved enough for him to get away unharmed. But he was still here with Bruce, pressing his lips softly to Bruce's forehead.

 

“I should not have kept my being Superman a secret. But I was so afraid you would hate me if I told you. Not that it matters now, with you hating my anyway.”

 

When he spoke, Bruce could feel his warm breath on his skin, what with his lips still so close. He got goosebumps just by feeling the words. Clark's voice was full of grief and regret. Bruce noticed the hands in his hair and on his back trembling, but they were still stroking in comforting circles.

 

“I hid the true from you. But I never lied to you. Not even once. All I told you, about my life, my job, my illness, and my family and friends was true. That is the life I have lived so far. I had no reason to make anything up.”

 

Bruce was shocked. It could not be. It was impossible. Superman could not have grown up in a small farm in Kansas. And if he really loved his mother and Lois so much, why would he tell Bruce about them? Make them a target for the Bat? Except he hadn't known Bruce was the Bat at the time. Telling a civilian about his weaknesses had not been a big risk. And if he didn't know, he’d had no reason to get close to Bruce unless it had all really been a big coincidence. Still, it was hard to believe.

 

“But you are not from earth. You‘re a totally different species. How could you have become so human? Someone would have noticed you when you first got here. But Superman only started making the news a few years back.”

 

There was no way for someone super powered to have the same human values and morals. To follow human rules and blend in like this without suspecting something. And even if human civilization was similar to the one on Clark's home planet, there was still the difference in power and a big probability that accidents would occur.

 

If—and this was a big if—Clark had really chosen to blend in with humanity for some unknown reason instead of dominating the whole planet, there were still psychological factors. Could someone really live like a human and be happy with it while holding back all the time? While disguising the truth and hiding, always dreading someone would find out. It was a stupid risk and bore no advantages. It was illogical. There was no reason to do it this way. No reason, unless he had been here way longer than his first appearance. Had been taught the human way from the start.

 

“You were a small kid!”

 

He was rewarded with a big smile for his effort in figuring it out. And a chase kiss to his left cheek. Clark seemed glad he’d finally made some attempt to understand. To see something in Superman besides the monster he had feared for so long. And he did start to see it. All the facts hat not quit matching up the past year when he researched. But Bruce had chosen to ignore it. To select only the details fitting into the theories he’d had on Superman. To become just like the other people who had stopped seeing the humanity in Superman when he’d become god to them.

 

“A baby, to be specific. I don't remember anything from Krypton and know nothing of it except for a few sparce reports I found in the ship I was sent here with. Earth has always been my home. This may not the place where I had been borne, but it is the place I lived and grow up. Ma and pa have always been my parents, even if we don't share any blood. Lo knows about me, and she is still like a big sister, trying to protect me.”

 

Bruce froze, and his breath hitched when the realization hit him. Clark had never lied, and everything he had said was true. He had made a terrible mistake when he had tried to kill him for just being born the way he was. He’d never had a choice. It was his biology.

 

He’d nearly killed Clark without really having a reason for it. Just from his hate of the unknown. And this despite Clark being the most kind and loving person he knew. Someone who could never hurt another person if he could help it. Who just wanted to do good and help people. Who had never meant to kill anyone in the disastrous fight with Zod. Who had only wanted to stop Zod the best way he could, but had failed because he‘d lacked the training and experience.

 

_What have I done?_ Clark didn't deserve anything he had done to him. Not the blood and the verbal abuse. He had every reason to never forgive Bruce for what he had done. He should be furious and leave after punching Bruce. God knew Bruce had proved he would be filled with rage had he been in such a situation.

 

But Clark was more, better, than the people around him deserved. And he was still here, cradling Bruce to his chest, placing soft kisses on his nose. And this after Bruce had messed up so badly. But there could be no way their relationship could survive this. At some point, Clark would understand Bruce had no right to be in his life any longer. And he would correct this mistake. And Bruce would be left with nothing again.

 

After such a long time, Bruce finally had something good in his life again, and he’d messed it up. Like he always messed up. Like he had with Rachel and like he had with Jason. And even if Dick was still alive, he had also broken their relationship beyond repair. It had been months since he had last seen his eldest son. And it had ended in screaming and anger until a fist to Bruce's chin had ended the confrontation.

 

It was stupid; Bruce didn't even remember what they had been fighting about anymore. He should have apologized long ago, but even if he wanted to he’d never found the will to do it. And as more time had passed, it had just gotten harder and harder. Dick had been right when he had screamed at him from being a freak. For having no communication skills except when it came to lying.

 

He had never been able to have a proper relationship with anyone. Not with his family and above all not with Clark. He should beg for forgiveness, but he didn't know how. He just couldn't get the words out. It was so easy as Brucie, but it was not his real self. Just a role he played and with no substance behind it. He did not want to hide behind a mask in front of Clark. After all, Clark deserved more than something so cruel.

 

“I...I. Clark...I—”

 

There was no way he could do this. This was way too important than for him to lose it like this. There was a higher probability of the Joker going sane than this having a pleasant outcome. He needed to make his exit and get back to the cave. To plan and get his thoughts in order. If he had a strategy, he could save something. Maybe they could still be friends, if nothing more.

 

The Batmobile was just around the corner. Clark knew where he lived, but he was too polite to just follow, and he would give Bruce some time. It would be at least some days until he would visit. Assuming he wanted to visit and see Bruce ever again. But Bruce could come up with some way to apologize and visit him. Bring flowers or other gifts and prepare a speech.

 

But when he tried to get up and flee he was stopped by a strong arm holding him down. Bruce struggled with no success. Clark had his full power and therefore his strength back. The way his arm rested on Bruce's lower back was not brutal or hurtful in any way, but it stopped all of Bruce's movement effortlessly.

 

“Hey, shh. I told you it was fine. Don't start crying again, Bruce. I couldn’t be angry at you. It wasn’t your fault. See? I'm fine. Everything has started healing already. All the damage will be gone in no time. I'm just happy to have you lying here in my arms. I always wanted to hold you like this. Completely safe and close to my heart.”

 

Bruce calmed down a bit, but was still unsure of what to do. When he finally found the courage to look at Clark again, the man was smiling even more brightly than before. He even started laughing a bit. It was beautiful. The sound rumbled in the chest under Bruce’s, and he felt a bit embarrassed to be pressed so close to the other man. Even if it was nice.

 

He hesitated a few more moments before slowly tilting his head closer to Clark's, giving the man enough time to react. Bruce looked at Clark's eyes for something to stop him, but found nothing. Still, he proceeded with caution, ready to abort any second if Clark would give any sign of discomfort. There was none. When his lips met Clark's, he noticed how soft they were when pressed against Bruce's own chapped ones. The cut was hardly even noticeable, almost healed, thanks to Superman's powers.

 

Bruce instantly drew back after a short touch, not wanting to overstep and upset Clark. It had felt fantastic. Brucie had kissed many people before, and lots of them had been deep lusty kisses, but there had never been any feelings involved. Not like this. Not one of them could even come close to comparing to the chaste touch of his lips against Clark's. The way it made the heat rise to his face and his head light. He wanted to feel it again, but he didn't dare try.

 

But the decision was made for him when the hand on his neck drew him in closer, and Clark's lips were on his again. Still soft and brief, but Bruce melted into the kiss. His eyes closed, and the tension finally left his body. They stayed this way, close to one another, even after the kiss had ended. One of Clark's hands found his, and their fingers interlocked. Clark brought them to his mouth and peppered Bruce's wrist with feather-light kisses.

 

“You are so perfect, Bruce. I never thought I would find someone like you. You are so strong, but I can't help wanting to protect you. Even if you are fine on your own with your powers.”

 

This had Bruce confused, and he raised his head from Clark's shoulder where he had rested it. Didn't Clark know he was just an ordinary human? Was this the reason why Clark had kissed him? Did he think Bruce was one of his kind? Did he want another Super at his side and not a human?

 

Bruce bit back the tears. It was stupid to be sad. Superman should not be with a fragile human, and it was mostly his fault Superman had assumed he was something powerful. His reputation made sure no one thought a single bullet could take the crusader out. And after his methods became more brutal, people just assumed he was finally giving in to his inhuman bloodlust.

 

He shuffled uncomfortably on top of Clark, trying to get space between them. But Superman didn't let him get up and just strengthened his grip on Bruce again, holding him in place. Clark's fingers once again started stroking his back comfortingly. He clearly knew something was wrong, and he whispered sweet words into Bruce's ear to calm him. But Bruce was not listening, holding back tears until the words just blurred out.

 

“I'm not a super. Far from it. I'm just a normal frail human being.”

 

Clark's hands halted and he looked at Bruce in disbelief.

 

“But...But you did all the stuff. Like flying. At the docks. You are way faster than a human and could take all my hits. Oh my god! I hit you! I though you had some sort of defense or super healing like me. I thought you wouldn't feel it. Are you hurt? Of course you are hurt. I punched you. How bad is it? Can I help? God, I'm so sorry. Shit, I hurt you.”

 

Clark was clearly panicking now. Leave it to Superman to feel bad for acting in self-defense. Bruce reached forward and stroked through Clark's messy curls, but it felt distanced. They were as soft as he had imagined them to be, back when he’d gone on dates with Clark. Even if he had not been sure back than if they really were dates. He just could not get over the fact Superman had thought he was super powered when they kissed. He didn't want a human. He didn't want Bruce.

 

“These are only bruises. I’ve had much worse. Give it a few days, and everything will be healed. You didn't know, and I forced you to defend yourself by attacking first.”

 

The words came out more emotionlessly and coldly than he’d intended. Why couldn’t he just be happy for what he had? For the kiss they had shared? Why couldn’t he accept reality? Clark was not at fault here for assuming the wrong things about him. Even if it broke Bruce's heart again. How many more times could he keep putting the shards of his heart back together before the damage became forever irreparable?

 

Instantly Clark flinched and took his hands off Bruce's back. It hadn't really hurt—Clark was way too careful for it—and Bruce instantly missed his touch. How stupid. He laid there for a few more moments, but he could not stay here forever drowning in misery. He got up suppressing a groan when he moved his back after staying in this position for so long. Now his back did hurt. He checked the next rooftop, planning his exit, but it was impossible to get up there without his grappling hook, and he had lost it in the fight. It seemed like he had no other option besides a walk of shame to his car.

 

But getting away from Superman was impossible. The man was instantly by his side, looking for any damage he had caused. His touch was tender and careful, but Bruce tried to squirm away. Superman had no other choice than to clasp his arms around Bruce to keep him in place. A nice gesture, given he could have just grabbed Bruce's wrist, and there would have been no way for him to escape.

 

“What is wrong? You are not angry at me. You seem...sad... somehow. Did I do something wrong?”

 

“I'm fine. Let go of me.”

 

His demand was ignored, and Clark searched his face for clues. Bruce flinched under his burning gaze. He wasn’t sure he could hide anything from it.

  
“Wait! Are you sad because you thought all this was just because I thought you were someone like me?”

 

Bruce didn't say anything. But he didn't have to. His eyes gave the whole truth away. His face was a open book, full of emotion for once in his life.

 

“Oh, Bruce. I'm so sorry—”

 

This was it. This was the part where Clark would let him down gently like the kind soul he was.

 

“—I never wanted you to misunderstand or cause you pain. I love you. This doesn't change anything. I only love you even more. You have no power to help you and no responsibility to go out every night and risk your life. But you still do it to help people, and you get hurt. You are even hurt and bleeding right now. But you still do it. You are a hero, Bruce.”

 

The hero part was arguable, but Bruce didn't resist when Clark's arm on his lower back urged him forward. A hand cupped his cheek and tilted his head up so a kiss could be pressed to his lips. Bruce could not help but sling his arms around Clark's neck, needing to get closer. The hand left his face and was tenderly placed under his knees, lifting him up.

 

He didn't panic when Clark's feet left the ground and they floated up into the air. He knew he was safe. Clark would let nothing happen to him. He broke the kiss, coming up for air, and then rested his head in the crook of Clark's shoulder, looking down at Gotham. It was dreamy so far up in the sky. Thousands of lights shimmered in the night. Their reflection danced in the water under them.

 

A ear-piercing explosion tore through the quiet night. Bruce flinched, and he could feel a slight shockwave even if they were far from the center of the blast. His head whirled around in the direction of Metropolis. Smoke rose into the air, obscuring much of his view. He could see flames in the distance. It was the freight port, and there shouldn't be any people there at this hour, but they should still check what had caused this. And keep the fire from spreading. Bruce pulled his cowl back on.

 

“We have to go!”

 

Superman was clearly as shocked as Bruce was, but didn’t hesitate to act.

 

“I need my grappling hook if you don't plan on carrying me while we check out what caused this.”

 

“Grappling hook?”

 

“The gear I use to fly. Black. Looks like a gun. Part of the tech developed in secret by Wayne Enterprise to help me fight.”

 

Clark nodded in understanding while he set Bruce back on his feet on top of one of the warehouses on the docks. Then he vanished for a an instant only to reappear in Bruce's personal space with the gadget in hand.

 

_How could a man be so perfect?_

 

Bruce wondered as they both headed in the direction of the blast. With his Batplane still to far away he had to be embarrassingly carried by Superman. Even if he didn't mind the close contact to much. Even if he should have told Superman to fly ahead in order to check for casualties. But he was already to compromised by feelings to think clear. This was one of the many reasons why this was such a bad idea. He should have told Clark off and end this before his emotional state became even more unstable. There was no hope of this going somewhere.

 

_What could someone like me possibly offer Superman besides pain and misery?_

 

 


	7. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman and Superman need to fight Doomsday to protect Metropolis. An incident brings the tension between them to a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just got longer and longer and took some time. Especially checking it over. I must admit I always get a bit lazy when it comes to working over a chapter.
> 
> At the beginning the happy ending was not planned but after all the angst I put Bruce and Clark thought I felt like a bad ending would be dissatisfying so I added the second half of the chapter. If you are not a fan of happy endings you can skip the part if you want to.

Clark brought them over the river between Gotham and Metropolis in no time. He didn't go at his maximum speed, with Bruce in his arms. Human's were not made to withstand the forces at supersonic speed. He had carried Lois or people he had rescued before and knew how fast he could go before it got uncomfortable and he was already pushing it with Bruce. He didn't know if in Batman's suit was designed for something like this at all.   
  
When Clark fought Bruce he hadn't pulled his punches and it was clear the suit had not been able to absorb all the force with Bruce still being hurt. But it had still taken the most amount of the damage instant of Bruce. Otherwise, Bruce would be dead by now. He had made such a big error and didn't even think of the possibility of Batman being human. If he had been even a bit more brutal the suit would not have been enough to protect Bruce.   
  
He would have killed him.   
  
Clark would have killed the man he loves with his own two hands and wouldn't have noticed it until it was too late.  
  
He still felt sick knowing he hurt Bruce to the point where he bled. It was hard to tell at first. The blood was mostly contained in the suit, but at a few places the weaker seams of the armor had been broken and the fluid trickles out from the small cracks. It colored Clark's hands a worrying crimson. The smell of iron irritated his enhanced sense of smell and he could almost taste it with how focused he was on Bruce.   
  
Clark could not help but to check up on Bruce's vital parameters at regular intervals.   
  
At least the ones he could monitor past the lead-lining in the suit. He knew Bruce would not appreciate him breaking his privacy with how paranoid he was but it calmed Clark down a bit to hear the calm breathing and strong heartbeat. The steady rhythms of Bruce's heart had become so familiar to him it felt like home.   
  
He rather wanted Bruce to be safe far away from Metropolis, but he could not leave him behind. He would be too worried over what could happen to Batman alone in Gotham to concentrate. And even if he brought Bruce home first, Bruce would have found a way to follow him and research the explosion himself. It was better to know where he was than to get him hurt on accident if Batman suddenly appeared behind him.   
  
Plus it would have destroyed the small amount of trust he had gained back if he had treated Bruce like he was a lesser hero than Superman. He was kinda proud of being on Batman's good side again. It was not easy to get the Batman's faith but he had somehow managed it. Especially surprising given the conflict of having a secret identity. But here Batman was in his arm's, trusting him to bring him to Metropolis safely.   
  
Another factor why he took Bruce was Bruce being insecure about being human when Clark was super powered. This much was obvious after the outburst he had before. Leaving him would just have fed into this self-doubt and Bruce had enough of those already. He didn't need Clark to make him feel even worse. Clark didn't need to be an expert in psychology to see Bruce was lonely and needed someone to help him. And if he could help Bruce to see himself for what he was, a great hero and kind man, he would be happy.  
  
They finally made it to the harbor. The destruction was severe with flames still licking into the sky and most of the dock being destroyed. Superman scanned the area but could not find any humans injured or in danger at least. At least no one had been caught up in the explosion. Property damage was still bad but nothing needing his immediate attention. You could rebuild stone but not bring a person back to life.   
  
Even though it would cost a lot to repair the harbor. There was a lot of buildings lying in ruins, sometimes just a small part of a stone wall left, the rest of it was scattered around it in small pieces.  
  
Or just completely gone. The streets were littered with craters and holes or buried under tons of debris. Ships wrecks cracked into pieces scattered on the ground the cargo laying between them. The gasoline in some tanks was burning, the flames skipping to the warehouses were the fluid had leaked out of the ship and close to the building.   
  
This had most likely caused the explosion, when something hazardous stored in the building caught fire.   
  
Still, if this was what happened, then the explosion happened after the ships were thrown to shore. This much was certain.   
  
_So what had caused this?_ _Was it some sort of accident or was a villain involved? But why the docks and not some more lived-in area?_  
  
A villain had nothing to gain from destroying the docks like this.  
  
When Clark thought about it, it could be that Lex had caused this. His behavior in the past weeks had been suspicious. He had behaved despite Superman being back, he had not bothered Clark or Lois at the Planet and he was rather tame at the press conference about the security system, even with Lex Corp losing against Wayne Tech.   
  
Not to mention the truck should have had enough time to get to Metropolis. So there could have been something dangerous inside causing all this destruction at the harbor.  
  
Even if he really did not see why Lex would damage the place his own shipments arrived. Causing Lex Corb losses in profit. And he must know messing with the city would only get Superman's anger and attention.   
  
Unless this had been his exact goal. A disturbance like this made sure Superman was here. Lex could be planning god knows what somewhere else in the city.   
  
He turned to voice Bruce his concern but got no chance to do so.  
  
“Something's wrong. I just got a report. Lex-corp employees are on the Kryptonian ship. See over there, the hull next to the green container. With the round flower logo. Defiantly hand-prints. Bigger than human. Denting in the metal suggest it was tossed by the person making the prints. The pieces broke up in the process when the steal couldn't withstand the force anymore. There is only one species I know able to accomplish such a task.”  
  
Clark swallowed hard.   
  
This could not be. It could not be another Kryptonian. He should be the last. After Zod, there should not be any more of his kind trying to take over Earth. But at least Bruce's voice didn't sound accusing. Clark had been afraid Bruce would blame him for keeping more secrets when he really didn't. Or worse thing he was working with whoever destroyed the dock to enslave humanity. But he didn't make Superman responsible clearly convinced Superman was as surprised by the new threat as he was. It was not Superman's fault he didn't know there were still people from his home planet out there. And that was a start he could work with. Trust was something to be earned and Clark was nothing but hard working.   
  
“But where did the new Kryptonian come from?”  
  
“Not sure yet. But Lex is involved. The truck I let get away was spotted by a security camera by the ship. This is most likely nothing natural. It's constructed to much like a trap to lure you here. Either this is a distraction or Luthor took your destruction into his own hands when I failed.”  
  
Clark wanted to interrupt him. Bruce didn't fail: he would have won if he had wanted to. Even if Bruce hadn't killed him, his mercy had been an act of understanding and not a failure. Bruce had just done the right thing. he should not describe his actions in such a bad light. Clark had to convince Bruce of this fact. But he got stopped by a black-gloved hand in front of his face motioning him to be quiet.  
  
“The reason why I didn't finish don't concern Luthor. Even if stopping was the best choice of action. Fact is you are still alive and well given the circumstances. Something he hadn't accounted for. Either you should have been dead or at least so badly injured you would be easy to finish after our fight. Me dead or dying would have been only a bonus to Luthor. I don't want to lessen my responsibility for this situation by pushing the blame elsewhere but this was orchestrated by Luthor.”  
  
Clark was fascinated by the calm way Bruce analyzed the situation and how he drew conclusions. Sure Clark knew Lex was somehow involved in this mess but Bruce had a firm grip on the situation. He saw deeper connections between events and came to results Clark would never even have thought about. And he was not just making assumptions but had some actual clues to back them up.   
  
Even if Clark could not make much sense out of the strange numbers and words on the small touchscreen on Bruce's wrist. But the photo's of the truck next to the ship with a box being unloaded was something even Clark could understand.   
  
However, now Clark was curious and really wanted to know what else was hiding in the suit.  
  
He blushed wildly when he caught up on how this had sounded even if it was only in his head. He only meant the tech and gadgets. Really. Even if he wouldn't mind the rest if Bruce was willing. He had done research and some of the pictures in the tabloids didn't leave much to the imagination. A fact Lois had teased him about endlessly when he had been staring at them embarrassed but not able to close the magazine.   
  
But none of the picture's had any scars. _Did Bruce hide them or did he not have any scars before his fight with Clark?_ He really needed to spend more time with Bruce after today. The man was a mystery.  
  
“I didn't see the obvious in my haste to declare a guilty party. The evidence was too clearly pointing at you being responsible for the destruction. The security level on the Kryptonite shipment was too small and the protection on-site inadequate. Lex wanted me to have a weapon against you. To get rid of you without being directly involved. Whatever is down there is his plan B. I only cracked the first firewall but the code-name of the project is Doomsday. The encryption is too high to crack the rest without taking to much time and getting back to my main computer.  
Whatever it

is it is dangerous. Proceed with caution.”  
  
And with this warning, Bruce jumped out of his arms.   
  
He jumped out of Superman's arms! While they were still hovering. High in the air above a burning and destroyed harbor. With a deathly Kryptonian down there sent by Luthor to kill them.   
  
And he just jumped. Just jumped.  
  
Clark was too shocked, just staring at his now empty arms in confusion. Then his eyes followed Bruce's form free-falling from the sky. He couldn't believe this. Surely Bruce would not jump to his doom without having a way to break the fall. At least Clark hoped so.   
  
But it was better to be safe than sorry and something could always go wrong.   
  
Clark just dropped down in an attempt followed Bruce but he never reached him. He watched in amazement when Batman suddenly swung in a perfect arc, body bending beautifully, and landed without a sound on top of the still standing half of a building. He nearly lost sight of him when Batman retreated into the shadows, blending in perfectly.   
  
No wonder people always thought he was something out of this world. It had been almost magical. No human should be able to make something like this look so easy.   
  
He didn't join Bruce in the shadows. If there was really a Kryptonian after him, it was better to keep some distance between himself and Bruce. He could handle an attack way better than the other man, especially with Batman's armor already damaged. Hiding in the dark was also not something he was good at. His outfit didn't blend in well enough and he just couldn't find the blind spots.   
  
He floated around the area a few feet above the ground. Extinguished some of the flames with his ice breath when it looked like they would spread. He didn't bother to do more clean up work. When they found Luthor's plan B there would likely be more damage and he didn't know how long his energy would last with him still being exhausted from the previous fight. He was still not back to his full potential recovering from his sickness. This didn't mean he was not restless. He looked around for danger but couldn't see anything.   
  
His focus drifted to Bruce's hiding spot all the time to check the other one over. He was really worried. Batman should be in a hospital or wherever he went to lick his wounds. The longer they wasted time here the worst Bruce's condition got. And Clark didn't like this at all. Bruce was suffering because of wounds Clark had caused. He was debating taking Bruce somewhere to get help by force if the other refused to go.   
  
Suddenly his head whipped around jolted by a sick feeling creeping up his spine. He barely got his hands up in time to block an incoming punch. Pain flared up his forearms and he gritted his teeth to suppress a scream. The force of it threw him back through the wall of a storehouse behind him and he only stopped after slipping a few meters and colliding with the collapsed roof. He got up from the rubble, his arms still arching. Whatever had hit him was at least as strong as Superman was if it could do this amount of damage.   
  
Clark looked to space he had just occupied a second ago in a panic.   
  
A dark frightening figure loomed there. It looked unlike everything Clark had ever seen or faced before and he felt a shiver running down his body. It was a lot taller than him and grotesquely misshaped but in some way still recognizable as human. Beige colored thorns broke out of it's discolored gray skin and Clark didn't want to get to close to the sharp spikes if he could avoid it.   
  
Clark moved a step to the side to get down from the ruins to have better footing. A mistake, its red glowing eyes snapped at Clark instantly, nailing him in place, not really knowing what to do.   
  
His decision was made for him when it roared, the sound rang over the whole harbor, showing a row of sharp teeth. Saliva got everywhere and the muscles on its neck were strained by the strength of the roar.   
  
It was horrifying to see nothing human. With Zod, Clark had at least been able to try and talk some sense into him. He highly doubted this creature could even understand the human language.   
  
When his teeth snapped closed with an audible click it flowed at Clark with inhuman speed.  
  
Clark braced for the impact, feet wide, body bent forward. Running away would get him nowhere. It was clear he could not out-speed the other and wasting time would only drain him more. When they crashed he lost his footing while being lifted off the ground by the monster. They stumbled through the air. Superman managed to grab the beast's arm and used the leverage and the forward momentum of his opponent to pull him in an uncoordinated toss.   
  
He noticed with satisfaction how the monster crashed through the wall Superman had already left a hole in, and then through a shipwreck.   
  
Clark instantly flew after it and start bashing his fist at its back before it got a chance to get up. The monster flattened into the ground and the net of cracks got bigger and bigger while the hole got deeper. His breath was ragged but he thought he had a good chance of winning if he managed to keep this up.   
  
But he had underestimated Doomsday by thinking he could just stop it from acting by this. Its head snapped around.  
  
Hot pain shot through Clark's side. He could not suppress the scream this time with how much it hurt. He toppled over and fell to his knees, the laser sweeping narrowly above him, his hands pressed on the burned flesh on his waist.   
  
He stared in disbelief at the heat vision the other possessed. Its eyes were still burning and sparks surrounding his face. It had the same abilities. He could under no circumstance let it leave this area. It could destroy Metropolis -easily if he lost. And all the people would die, not able to withstand its power.  
  
Then the realization hit him. Panic burst forth and he looked with dread at the building behind them. The building Bruce had been on. The building that was now nothing more than a pile of smoking and burned stones.   
  
This could not be. Bruce could not be dead. Clark could not lose him like this. There was still so much he hadn't said. So much emotion built up inside him.   
  
He needed Bruce.   
  
His lips quivered when focused his hearing, clinging to some hope the other man was still alive. And his own heartbeat jumped in his ears. He could make out the calming sound of Bruce's heart. He was so used to it be now he would never mistake it for someone else. But it was at the complete opposite side of the battlefield.   
  
_How had Bruce managed to sneak past them without being noticed?_  
  
Superman's attention was to focused on Bruce and he was gripped at the front of his suit in a steel grip by the other Kryptonian. He tried to pry the fingers of but to no avail. They soared up into the sky faster than Superman could have on his own.   
  
Then the momentum suddenly turned and he felt weightless for a second before Doomsday smashed him down and gravity claimed him again. He tumbled from the sky, losing sight of what was up and what was down, not able to stabilize and float in time.   
  
Clark crashed with his back into the ground. He needed to breathe. But the pain left no room for air and he screeches not even able to scream. He tried to focus on anything else to escape the agony ion his body but there was nothing but pain. Even more of it than in his fight with Bruce.  
  
Black dots obscured his vision. His line of sight faded more and more only to snap back to focus again. Occasionally seeing a gray shape move in his direction.   
  
He must have missed a moment because suddenly the shape was way closer nearly looming over him.   
  
He had to move and get away before he was done for. But he just couldn't move. Everything hurt so badly. His super-healing hadn't kicked in yet. Something must be broken. Otherwise, it would not have hurt so bad.   
  
It was just like Zod all over again. Probably even worse.  
  
He really had no luck with his own kind. Everyone he ever meets tried to kill him at some point. First Zod now Doomsday. Even though this one didn't even look remotely like the rest of them; something must be wrong with it. But he was still from Krypton and he should have the same weaknesses. Like Kryptonite.   
  
If Bruce still had some of the Kryptonite he could do something.  
  
Wait...Bruce! He had to protect Bruce. He had no time to lay here bleeding and broken when Batman was in danger of becoming the next target. No matter how good Bruce was there was no way he could manage to fight against Doomsday without getting badly hurt or even killed.   
  
Clark could not let this happen. He had to get up and protect him. He could not leave Bruce on his own. He had sworn himself to always be there if Bruce needed him.  
  
Clark tried to get up. His muscles strained and his body was in agony but it was no use. He just didn't have the power, still too drained from the exposure of the Kryptonite and the injuries from his last fight. It was hopeless, he could do nothing but wait.   
  
But the killing-blow never came.  
  
Before he could be broken in half or have a fist pushed through his heart the gray figure just disappeared. He closed his eyes and counted to ten but nothing happened. When he opened them again nothing has changed. Doomsday was still missing from his vision and there was still broken stone all around him.  
  
He got up carefully and slowly but it still hurt and he whimpered. But he was rewarded for his efforts by seeing Batman playing an insanely dangerous game of cat-and-mouse with Doomsday. With no means to deflect attacks Bruce just dodged every attack the other made. He jumped out of the way of the heat vision, avoided punches by rolling away, spun out of the way of kicks and used his grapple to get some distance between them if Doomsday got to close. He still always got back Doomsday's attention by tossing Batarags at it whenever it turned to Clark. All attempts at super-speed  
on Doomsdays

part were rendered useless by Bruce choosing tight passages and obstacles, which slowed Doomsday down.   
  
Clark watched closely not wanting to disturb the shaky balance between them. Bruce never failed to get Doomsday's attention. He got the beast to turn away from Clark and Metropolis before the other used his head vision. When it threw parts of the shipwreck it was always in the direction opposite of Clark.   
  
He made himself Doomsday's main target to keep everyone else safe.   
  
It was if Bruce already knew what his opponent would do in advance and reacted accordingly to some master-plan he had. To see a Kryptonian being rendered so useless purely by skill and experience was humbling. If Bruce could do something like this without preparation and injured there was no mistake that he could have killed Clark easily. Especially if he had the chance to prepare the stage beforehand.   
  
It was beautiful to watch how Bruce danced around Doomsday. But he could not continue to stall forever and Clark got anxious. He would get tired soon and sloppy.   
  
And if Bruce made a single mistake, a slight miscalculation, it would be over. If Doomsday managed to get even a single blow to glance against Bruce he would die.  
  
Driven by this fear for Bruce's life he got back into the air, feeling a bit rested and ready to fight again. He used Bruce's distraction to smack into Doomsday's side, connecting with a sickening cracking sound.   
  
Doomsday tumbled to the side away from Bruce. Superman continued to punch but Doomsday didn't seem to feel the pain from Clark's blows and just got fiercer in his counterattacks. They were evenly matched, Doomsday even a bit stronger than Clark, and without Bruce grace and technique this had turned into a brawl of pure power and endurance. One Clark was clearly losing when running only on willpower.   
  
“HEAT VISION!”   
  
He didn't even question the statement. When he heard the voice he just flung his body to the side.   
  
And just in time. He could feel the flame on his skin thought his suit and smelled burned clothes but he got away without another flesh-wound.   
  
The shout, however, had gotten Doomsday's attention and he was rushing at Batman.   
  
Clark raced forward to throw himself at the monster or at least between it and Bruce, but he got stopped by a single raised gloved finger. He instantly stopped midair, even if he did not understand why Batman wanted to face danger like this alone. But if he wanted Clark to stay where he was Clark would listen. He would do whatever Bruce wanted, trusting in the other's judgment. Bruce had already proved he was the better trained of them. The one with a plan. The one suited to be a leader.   
  
He drifted back and got some more distance between himself and the other two dancing around each other again. But he was ready to sweep in and help any second if it was necessary.   
  
He got an answer pretty quickly as to why he had to stand so far away. The green light was surrounded Bruce's hand when he tossed a Batarang at Doomsday. A weapon the monster just ignored after being showered with them the whole fight.  
  
But this one was different and it hit right at its mark.   
  
Doomsday screamed when it sliced itself into his upper body between his ribs. Blood trickled from the wound but the weapon still inside was not enough to finish it. However, it had done some harm and the Kryptonite would eventually poison his blood.  
  
“HEAT VISION! ARM! LEFT!”  
  
When he heard the order this time, he also didn't hesitate to follow it. His eyes flared up and the flames lopped Doomsday's limb right off its body.   
  
In response, Doomsday howled in rage. The ground shook slightly from the loud sound and the few windows still intact sprayed to the ground in shards. More thorns broke through its skin, eyes narrowed to red slits and teeth bared in an animalistic grimace. The former gray skin was streaked with red veins popping out.   
  
All-in-all the attack only manage to make him more vindictive.  
  
Then Bruce stormed in his direction and threw himself forward and into Clark's arms. Without waiting a second Clark instantly squeezed him closer to his body and they shot into the sky away from the beast.   
  
He felt Bruce's accelerated heartbeat and his heavy breath on his neck when they looked down at Doomsday running wild.   
  
They had just made it out before hell broke loose. Doomsday was furiously smashing, blasting and destroying everything around it in its lust for blood. It had clearly lost all reason and attacked trucks, ships, and buildings but it didn't look up in their direction even once.  
  
They could only wait and see what happened for now. No way Bruce could survive down there. His elegant fighting technique was no use against an enemy mindlessly flattening the landscape. Clark would have to set Bruce down first if he wanted to fight again, and he didn't know how long he could withstand the enormous output of attacks down there.   
  
And this way he got to hold onto Bruce for a bit longer.   
  
They could only hope the Kryptonite would run its course in slaying the monster. Doomsday had been too blinded by rage to get the Batarang out so it was still in his chest. This didn't stop it from using its power like Clark but it surely didn't leave Doomsday unaffected. It was somehow Kryptonian after all.  
  
“However Lex managed to get such a monster to do his biding there is no guarantee he doesn't have more. He must be dealt with before their number increases.”  
  
Clark just hummed. He didn't know what Bruce meant with 'dealing with Lex' but he won't let Bruce do something cruel again. He would rather take Luthor into custody himself.   
  
It would be satisfying to do so after all the other man had done to them. He would investigate Luther and find out what Doomsday really was. Especially after he had tried to get closer to Clark in the past months. It couldn't be just a coincidence.  
  
He cradled Bruce closer, breathing in his leathery scent when some stray heat beams nearly hit them.   
  
Clark dodged, then sighed in relief when they were out of the danger zone and his check showed Bruce had not been struck. This was getting uncomfortable deadly.   
  
Plus Doomsday was moving again and not in a good direction.  
  
“I need to get down before he gets to Metropolis!”  
  
He was already looking for a safe spot to put Bruce down and flew in the direction of a deserted fishing boat drifting on the waves far enough away from the coast to be safe.   
  
But Bruce hand on his shoulder stopped him. He tried to shake it off and continue but the grip just got harder.  
  
“Stay here.”  
  
Clark shook his head in panic. He couldn't just wait until Doomsday started to kill the residents of his city. _Didn't Bruce understand?_  
  
“He will kill them, Bruce. All of them. My friends and coworkers. Would you let him run amok if it was Gotham?”  
  
This comment was way meaner than he had meant it to be. But his mind was racing as Doomsday slowly left the abounded space of the docks and got closer to the populated outskirts of the city.   
  
A hand on his neck guided his forehead against Bruce's. Well, Clark's forehead and Bruce's cowl. The hand stayed and drew small circles on his skin. They were so close their breath mixed together. Clark's eyes fluttered closed when he felt Bruce's nose slightly brush his and his breath speed up.  
  
“Clark. Stay here with me. I wouldn't let you suffer like this.”  
  
And Clark believed. He always believed in Bruce. If Bruce said hell would freeze over, hell would get an unexpected cold season. It was as simple as that.   
  
So he waited. This didn't mean he was calm. He couldn't be further from it, panicked and afraid. But he stayed with Bruce and felt Bruce's breath close to his own lips but never touching. He closed his eyes and leaned against the other man. He just hoped he would be allowed to go soon.   
  
Time seemed to crawl by agonizingly slow.  
  
“It's over.”  
  
Finally, words broke the silence torturing Clark.   
  
Bruce was right. When he opened his eyes and looked down it was over. Doomsday had fallen. He laid silently in a pool of his own blood and Clark could not hear a heartbeat.   
  
More importantly, he had stopped before the destruction could reach anyone living in Metropolis. Sure, homes were destroyed and streets were in pieces but the chaos didn't reach behind the blockade the police and military had made when the explosion happened. Everyone was safe and alive. Everything else could be repaired.   
  
Even if Superman would not really be able to help. His powers were weakening again and he was not sure how much longer he could continue with the adrenaline slowly fading away.   
  
Better not find out the hard way. He let them sink slowly to the ground, closer to the barricade and the people so they would not get caught up in rock-slides or fires in the destroyed area. He really didn't want to talk to the press yet and Bruce surely didn't want to get associated with him in public so he landed in the shadows of some buildings, hidden away from curious eyes.   
  
Batman was really rubbing off on him. Alleyways were more of his thing even if the alleys in Metropolis were way better lit, spacier, and cleaner than their counterpart in Gotham.  
  
“We did it”  
  
He was breathless. He just could not believe they managed this. And so easily in comparison to his fight with Zod, even with Doomsday being stronger.   
  
And all of this thanks to Bruce. The man was a force of nature, tilting the odds of winning so easily to their favor. If he still had doubts about a human being out in the field risking his life they were gone now. Unimaginable how many great things they could achieve if Bruce would join him.   
  
If Bruce would join him.   
  
They hadn't really had time to really talk things through. It was only sure that they didn't hate each other. Heck, Clark even confessed.   
  
And Bruce didn't seem to be against physical contact. But it was always hard to tell with Bruce.

_Who could tell what he really wanted and what just suited his cause right now?  
_  
When this was over and Clark had a good 3 days of sleep he would get Bruce to talk. The man could only be so stubborn before his nerves ran low and Clark was patient if he had to be.  
  
He used the chance of them being in the dark to take Bruce's cloves of and interlock their bare fingers. Then he pressed his lips briefly against Bruce's before the man vanished into thin air again. He sure had a thing for it.  
  
  
  
The pace didn't last long. Clark got a distinct feeling of being watched and the hairs on his neck stood up. He couldn't pinpoint the position from where the stares were coming from but he was sure about someone being there.   
  
_Did someone find them already?_  
  
But he had been so careful to let nobody see them when they ascended. It should not be possible for one of the spectators to notice them. _Maybe it was Lois?_ She was covering the story of the explosion for sure and she had a talent for finding him when he hides.  
  
But usually, she just came out demanding answers. Not hiding and spying like this. So it had to be someone else.  
  
Bruce's heartbeat hitching alarmed him more than a scream could have. He felt threat filling into his bone. Bruce had been calm and collected when confronted with an angry Kryptonian trying to kill them. That he was alarmed meant the situation was going downhill fast. Superman had already x-rayed the buildings behind Bruce, looking for the danger but he never got the chance to turn around and look behind himself.   
  
His legs were suddenly gone from under him. He tried to stay upright somehow but a hand at his chest pushed him off balance. He fell to the ground locking up at Bruce in shock. Bruce looked at him with a slight frown on his face but held eye contact with Clark. This was until Bruce stumbled and Clark had already raised his arms to catch him. In his panic Clark nearly overlooked the red spot appearing on the black of Bruce's uniform. Then Bruce fell forward and Clark caught him in his arms, speechless.   
  
“So this is why my plan failed. I knew it. Something was off. But who could have guessed you two were a thing. What an interesting development”  
  
Clark could not take his eyes of Bruce. He could not understand what was happening. Where the blood was coming from. It took a dangerously long amount of time till he looked up. Luthor seemed unfazed by his own brutality. Like shooting a man straight in the chest was nothing to him. He even dared to have a slight smile on his face and it made Clark's blood boil. He enjoyed this. He dared to enjoy Bruce's pain.  
  
A gun was still causally held at Luthors side. The gun he had shot Bruce with. The bastard had shot Bruce and now Bruce was slowly bleeding out and dying because of him. And it was Clark's fault. His very existence had gotten Luthor to act and Bruce was only here because Clark had gone to Gotham. If he had just skipped to Metropolis right away this would not have happened. Bruce would have been saved.   
  
He had ruined Bruce's life. He was killing Bruce by existing. The people had been right to hate him. He caused nothing but pain and death since Superman came into existing. And when he finally thought there was still something good it literally ran through his fingers sticky and red. Clark had failed to protect Bruce. Superman's power had not been enough. Clark had not been enough. He was still to inexperience, to reckless, didn't think enough about the consequences of his action. He had been too distracted by being so close to Bruce to speed them out of the way of the bullet.   
  
It should be him laying there dying not Bruce.  
  
“To bad the bat sacrificed himself. I had this bulled specially made just for you. A weapon worthy of killing a god”  
  
Clark starred at Lex in confused. It took a long time till he understands. He was still numb even if fury started to boil up in him. He was no god. He was just a simple boy trying to do what was right. But it finally hit him. Kryptonite. Luthor was talking about Kryptonite. That's why Bruce took a bullet for him. Because this specific bullet was meant to kill Clark. But even if it had saved Superman no human was made to withstand a bullet. Kryptonite or not.  
  
The last lingering bits of numbness ebbed away and he was overrun by hot burning anger. How dare of Luthor to hurt Bruce. Clark would never forgive him. He would make him pay for all he had done to Bruce. The bullet, the manipulation and the isolation he had forced the other man into.  
  
He lowered Bruce carefully to the ground and took Bruce own shaking fingers to press them on the wound. At first, Bruce held on to his hand but Clark was able to gently free his wrist and place them where they could keep slow the blood flow. Superman managed to get halfway to his feet. His eyes were a shining crimson, starred hatefully at Luthor, his lips were pulled back revealing gritted teeth in a snarl. But he was stopped mid-motion by the metallic click of a gun.  
  
“Na na na, I wouldn't try this if I were you. Did you really think I was so stupid to come here with a single bullet?”  
  
And with this Clark was trapped. It was unlikely he could move out of the way fast enough in his condition. He was tired and exhausted from his fights with Bruce and Doomsday and his power was still not fully recovered after his illness. And this didn't even consider the fact he was still shaken up and concentrated from worrying about Bruce's condition. But even if this wouldn't be the case he would not have moved. He was the only thing standing between Luthor's gun and Bruce. And another hit was not something Bruce would survive.   
  
Turning around and getting Bruce out of the way was also not an option. He would not be fast enough to avoid the bulled with his powers flickering and weakening by the minute. Even with him blocking the path of the bullet there was still a chance of it getting to Bruce and he could not risk it. So he had no other choice than to wait and think of a plan. _What would Bruce do in Clark's situation?_ Bruce always had some kind of plan. He would have defused the situation already and have Lex tied up ready to be collected by the police  
  
If only Bruce were the one still on his feet instant of Clark.  
  
 _Why did Bruce have to take the bullet when he was so much in saving the day than Clark?_ Even if it was a Kryptonite bullet he would have not been of worse than Bruce or any other human.   
  
“I really can't believe it. You are just standing there waiting to get shot. How can you be so serious about him? He is nothing in the presence of God. Still, you are willing to die protecting him.”  
  
Luthor sighed heavily at how absurd the situation seemed to him.   
  
“If I had known all it took to tame a god was a small caged bat, I would have made you mine from the start. No use crying over spilled milk now. I guess you can't have everything in life. Or in his case, death. Time to join him, Superman.”  
  
Clark leaned down again and curled protectively over Bruce. He hoped Luthor had a steady hand. Bruce should still have a chance to survive this. Not that there was much hope. The moment Superman died Luthor would finish off the other threat to him. But even knowing Bruce would die either way Clark could not leave him alone or let him endure more pain.  
  
Clark just waited for the end to come. He just wanted to be with Bruce in his last moments, to see him, to look him in the eyes. And he wished Bruce's face wouldn't be such a mask of agony. The pale lips had a slight shade of gray to them and were twisted in pain. A strong contrast to the red blood on them. The blood had run all over his chin and had start clotting. This lead to small flakes of blood falling from his skin when Bruce groaned in discomfort.  
  
A shaky hand grabbed onto Clark's chest so weak it nearly slipped down before Bruce found purchase in the fabric. He grumbled the crest of the house of El in a death grip. The yellow smeared with a brownish red.  
  
Clark laid his own trembling fingers over Bruce's white ones. They were unnatural cold to the touch from the blood loss. Clark strengthened his grip, but still carefully enough not to hurt, and tried to give Bruce some warmth and comfort.  
  
He gathered some energy reserves and used his x-ray vision and take a peek under the cowl. Bruce hadn't spoken in a long time and he was afraid his conscious had already faded. To his relieve, Bruce hadn't passed out yet but his eyes were unsettling. All the light had faded from them and they were starring unfocused up to Clark not really making eye contact.   
  
It hurt to know the last thing he would see was Bruce being in a condition like this because of him. He would rather have seen a smile. Bruce was so beautiful when he had one of his rare smiles on his face. _Maybe they were so beautiful because they were so rare?_ Like a treasure. And like a treasure Clark cherished all he had gotten in the short time he was granted to spend with Bruce.  
  
He smiled down at Bruce, silently thanking him for all he had done to save Clark and make him live a little better. And time passed on.  
  
A dull thump echoed through the space of the alley, closely followed by a metallic clattering and then silence. Rushed footsteps in their direction persuaded him to look up. His breath hitched when a disheveled looking Lois jumped at him and looped her arms around him.  
  
“Clark! I'm so glad you're save. I thought you died! There was the explosion at the docks and no one saw you. I called you but you didn't answer and I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you had been caught up in the explosion and I would never see you again, you jerk.”  
  
She was really shaken up. At first, she had seemed angry and almost accusing for worrying her. But it quickly changed while she spoke and she lost her composure more and more while speaking.  
And then she was.  
  
“I could do nothing...absolutely

nothing. Expect standing behind the barricade and wait for you. Bu-But you never came. And then I noticed Lex. Act-Acting more suspicious than his usual self. So I followed hi...hi...him. HE NEARLY KILLED YOU! Oh god oh god. I hit him...I hit him with a wooden board. Shit. I should have hit harder. This bastard!”  
  
Now she was openly crying. And she almost never cried. Only when something really bad had happened. But now she was sobbing into his shoulder. He had not spared a single thought how it must have looked to Lois when he didn't come back from saving the train passengers. He had forgotten his phone at home but had thought it was fine. He hadn't thought he would be held up in Gotham and end up fighting another Kryptonian again. Not that he could have known but he still felt bad for worrying her so much.  
  
But she came in the last second to save them. She got her in time to save him and Bruce. Bruce! He was still bleeding!  
  
“Lois! Get an ambulance!”  
  
She was shocked and looked him overseeing the blood on his clothes. Then she followed his worried gaze where he was looking down. Her eyes widened when he saw the bloody figure nearly hidden under Clark's body. Even with Bruce still pressing his hand on the wound blood still seeped out between his fingers. It smudged over the smooth surface of the Batsuit and gave it a wet, red shimmer.  
  
“How bad is he? Wait, weren't you and he ene...”  
  
“Questions later! He will die...”  
  
The last words came soft and broken. It really hit him now after the danger had passed and with the adrenaline fading. He was losing Bruce. And he could do nothing to prevent it.  
  
Wanted to take Bruce somewhere safe. Somewhere he could get help. But he himself could barely stand anymore. He was drained and had lost control over his powers. He could still feel his super strength and his ability to fly tickling under his skin but he couldn't get a hold of it. Whenever he got close to using it, it just slipped away again. _What were his powers worth if they failed him when he needed them most?_  
  
He could only pray Lois would get help in time. She was his only hope. Understanding how grave the situation was Lois instantly straightened and turned to bold out of the allay.   
  
Clark sunk down the last few inches to his knees. He maneuvered Bruce into his lap into a half sitting position and leaned him against his chest. Bruce's fingers never let go of Superman's suit. Bruce other hand was getting a bit slack on the wound and Clark applied some pressure in hope of finally stopping the bleeding. He could feel Bruce's breath on his neck faint and labored.  
  
He eased the cowl of Bruce's face. Not knowing if his eyes were still open or not drove him insane. The skin felt ice cold when his hand brushed over it and he rested his palm on Bruce's forehead. It worried Clark to see these symptoms on Bruce but at least he was clearly conscious. Even if passing out would ease the pain it was better if he stayed awake. There was no guarantee he would wake up again if he closed his eyes.  
  
So Clark planned on keeping Bruce focused by talking to him.  
  
“He-Hey, Bruce... It will be fine...Everything gonna be fine. Lois is getting help...T-They will fix you. You will be as good as new...Ju...Just hang on a few more minutes. For me, okay?”  
  
He had always been bad at lying especially when he got emotional. Bruce didn't even need to be a decent detective to see right through his lie. Not that he would have believed Clark anyway even if Clark was better at lying. Batman knew his body and he knew injury from innumerable encounters and years of experience. He recognized a fatal wound especially when it was inflicted on his own body. There was no use resisting the inevitable.   
  
Bruce had a small smile on his lips when he looked at Clark. He chuckled slightly at the irony of dying in the arms of the man he had tried to kill only hours ago. The motion holstered his wound and he coughed up some more blood. It spraying on Clark's suit with small drops. He buried his face in the soft fabric of the suit just breathing in until he felt like he could speak without choking on his own blood.   
  
“Y-you are ter...terrible at lying. God, ...how could.... could I have ever thought you of all people....could have deceived me? You are...so Innocent.”  
  
Clark swallowed down a lump in his throat. He had wished for Bruce's understanding and forgiveness but he never wanted to get it like this. He had been prepared to slowly proof to Bruce he had kept being Superman not because of ulterior motives but because he had been afraid of rejection. He would have shown Bruce Superman was an ally, not an enemy.   
  
“N-No, it will be fine...You will not die...y-you ca...can't...”  
  
“A-Are you trying...trying to convince yourself now? Clark, I-I don't mind... Really. I knew...someday...I wo-wouldn't make it back. I always pictured me alone...somewhere dark. D-Days without an-anyone...noticing. This is not bad. There are way worse...way worse ways to go than this. This i-is good. I-I protected you.”  
  
Small sobs escaped Clark. This could not be. Bruce had already given up. He made peace with his fate. But Clark could not let go, let Bruce leave him alone. A bloody hand got gently placed on his cheek in a failing attempt of a reassuring gesture. Bruce still smiling up to Clark and it was kinda unsettling to see him this way. He was normally showing emotions so easily. Especially emotions so unfitting for the pain he was in now.  
  
“Y-you can't. You can die for me. I'm so sorry... So sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn't caught Luthor's attention, if I didn't go to Gotham....you would not... Not like this... Bruce...can you hold on? Please. Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone again.”  
  
Shaking fingers drifted to his nape leaving a bloody trail on Clark's tear-streaked skin and in his hair. Bruce coaxed him to lean forward not having much strength left to put some force behind the pull. He leaned Clark's forehead against his.  
  
“Shh, Clark, d-don't be sad. It will be fine...Everything is okay. You have people... Many people. Like Lois and your mum. Y-you are nice. Not...not like me. You will find friends.”  
  
He coughed up some more blood and Clark could feel the blood on his skin running down over his chin. Bruce shook like a leave in Clark's grip. The blood loss was really getting to him. He was ice-cold but he was bathed in sweat from the effort it took to keep on speaking. Clark wrapped him in his cape to give him some more warm.  
  
“C-Clark, promise me...something. The last wish:”  
  
Clark sobbed when hearing this. It illustrated there was no chance of Bruce making it. He could not hide in denial anymore. But he gritted his teeth and nodded pressing Bruce even closer. He would not refuse Bruce in his last moments.  
  
“Promise me...promise me you will f-forget me.”  
  
Clark's blood ran cold. He violently shook his head. He could not do this. He could not forget Bruce. Never.   
  
“I can't...I just can't. No matter how long I live. I-I will always remember you.”  
  
“See. Th-That's the problem. I don't...You shouldn't remember me. My last memories will die with Alfred. Don't...Don't think about me anymore. I'm not worth your sorrow. Move on. Please. Meet someone new, fall in love. B-Build a family. I don't wanna be in the way of your happiness.”  
  
He could not be serious. _How could Bruce still think so little of himself?_ Clark just wanted for Bruce to feel loved and cherished. Not self hate like this.   
  
“No Bruce I can't... I just...can't. You ARE my happiness. Without you....I'm lost. Didn't I tell you? You are my sun. We Kryptonians don't do well without the sun. Y-you still have a family. People loving you. Alfred...he will be sad. Your kids. You can't...You can't just leave them.”  
  
Bruce just shook his head. His eyes grew distanced and the corners of his mount sacked down in sadness.  
  
“Alfred is old... He will j-join me soon. It...gives him time... Time to visit his family in Britannia. I... I lost my family a long time ago. Dick...he hasn't spoken with me...in months. No friends...left. All alone. T-This way I can finally see Jason again. Miss him...so much. My small robin.”  
  
The hand nearly slipped from Clark's neck and he took it in his. It was way too cold. He cradled it to his face gently lining the weak pulse point with kisses. The action caused a small jump in the beat.  
  
“Y-you can be my family... I would... j-just stay at my side. Ma and Lois will love you. Like Jason does. He will wait for you a bit longer.”  
  
Bruce slightly tilted his head thinking. Then he nodded very slowly.  
  
“I...love that. S-staying with you. Sounds warm. I...I like warm. Also, like you. Y-you are always warm. Rest is so cold. But you...are so...warm. Always wanted...wanted things... I didn't deserve.”  
  
His muscles sized up in pain and he had to stop speaking. He spat blood to the side clearing his airway's again. Then he took some shallow breaths. He braced himself to deliver the next speech. He wanted Clark to know this. He would use all power left in him to let him know.  
  
“Clark, I was drawn to you since I first saw you. And I got to knew you better. I was never happier than when I saw your smile. I wish... I wish I could always have stayed at your side. Protect you. Guide you. Y-you, don't need me. You are strong...kind. Always giving your best. That's why...why you are a fantastic hero. Better...than Batman. The world need's you...”  
  
He was slowly losing his power. His voice was getting smaller and smaller.  
  
“I needed you. You saved me, Clark. I was...at a dark place. But you...you came and took my hand. There was never someone...like you. Never....someone I loved...not like this. Wish you can live without...ever wasting a though at me again. Pray you can live forever... or a long time. Longer than humans.”  
  
His voice was now nearly a whisper. Every syllable a fight to get out. Clark had to bring his

ear close to Bruce's mouth to understand him.  
  
“I'm a g-greedy human..will wait...on the other side...with Jason. T-take...take your time. S-smile? For me?”  
  
Clark blinked through his tears and looked at Bruce broken form in his arms. The sluggish breathing and the eyes falling shut every few seconds only to shutter open again. But it was still his beautiful Bruce. Still staying strong even with all the pain. He smiled: It was pained and full of sorrow.  
  
“T-thank you...my love.”  
  
Bruce eyes finally felt shut and his body went completely limb nearly sliding out of Clark's arms.   
  
“B-Bruce? Bruce! BRUCE! ...please don't...please...don't...don't leave me. I love you. Love you...so much. We didn't have enough time. J-just some more time. Bruce. BRUUUUUUUUUUUCE!”  
  


 

 

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
He was woken from his slumber by muffled voice's coming from the next room. But he tried to ignore these nuisances and go back to sleep. He didn't feel like facing the world yet. Especially if this world contained people he would have to interact with. So he buried himself deeper in the comfortable soft mattress instant and holed himself deeper in the warm blanket draping it over his head. His face was squished in a fluffy pillow, smelling somewhat familiar. But he just could not point his finger on it and he was way too exhausted to deeply think about it.   
  
This was cozy and he would love nothing more than to fall asleep again. But the voice's continue talking and it disturbed him. Could they not just leave him alone. There were so many other places, far far away from him where they could talk. He couldn't tolerate people right now. Or ever. Especially noisy ones. He just wanted to curl up and rest. His body was heavy and there was a slight ache all over his muscles. Drift into sleep again seemed so perfect.  
  
But he was all out of luck and he just couldn't find any more rest. The voices had stopped and there was only the sound of a single person rummaging around loudly next door. _Did he have no respect for the person just wanting to rest here?_  
  
This was strange. He lived alone and got no visitors in the night or in the early morning. But this person was way too loud and annoying to be a burglar. Plus whoever it was seemed familiar with the kitchen concluded from the noise of pans and other kitchen equipment.   
  
Curiosity finally got the better of him and he cracked an eye open. He instantly closed it again blinded by the bright light. _So it was day already. Had he forgotten to set an alarm?_ It was likely, given the fact he didn't remember how he did get to bed yesterday.   
  
He tried opening his eyes again and with a lot of blinking he managed to get them open. He hatefully starred at the bright ceiling as if it was responsible for him feeling like shit. It took an embarrassingly long amount of time before he noticed what was wrong. This was not the ceiling in his room. It was way to plain and not the right color. Shit. _Did he drink yesterday?_ It would explain the blanks in his memory's. Oh no, he was in the home of some stranger after a night he didn't remember. He just hoped he didn't sleep with someone yesterday and forget about it.  
  
But he wasn't too optimistic. A scenario like this would explain the situation too well, the headache and the numb feeling in his body. He shouldn't have drunk alcohol. He was not a teenager anymore and he should not have slip-ups like this. Especially now when he was working on a serious relationship.   
  
Oh shit: _He had just lost the small chance he had, hadn't he?_  
  
He buried his face back in the pillow and hoped this would all go away if he just waited a bit longer. With a grown and closed his eyes again. Next door fell into a deathly silence. _Really after all the noise, now his host tried to be quiet?_  
  
Now when he could use all distraction and noise to make a swift exit and act as if this had never happened. Well not that he had high hopes to leave unnoticed when he felt too much like a truck had hit him. If he could not go he could just continue to lay here a bit longer.  
  
However, he instantly got alerted again when the door to the room was carefully opened with a faint squeaking sound. So much for staying unnoticed. But he kept his eyes closed stubbornly. Maybe he could pretend to still be asleep and get some more rest before someone dragged him out of his cocoon. He didn't want to see anyone yet.   
  
“...Bruce?”  
  
The voice was soft and unsure. Almost a whisper but it dragged on his memory's. He knew this voice. He was sure of it. He cracked one eye open and looked at the direction of the door. A man was standing there. Younger than him.   
  
He could have been good-looking but his face was to stained for it. There were dark bags under his red puffy eyes. The complexion was pale and looking almost unnatural. His face was in a big frown. Blue eyes were dull and full of pain. Black hair was greasy and unkempt just like the baggy sweatpants with the unidentifiable stains on it. All in all the man looked like death warmed over again.   
  
He would be way lovelier with a bright smile on his face instantly. Just like Clark. Clark! This was Clark. He was barely recognizable. Even with Bruce being tired it had taken way to much time to identify him. He just seemed so different. His body posture was way more slouched than usual and he had lost weight again.   
  
But Bruce had made sure he ate whenever they meet and it had worked. Clark had looked healthier last time he saw him. Wait. _How long hadn't they seen each other?_ For the other to fall in a slum so drastic and change so much it would have taken some time. But it shouldn't have been more than a week since their last meeting. No one could change so dramatically in this amount of time. Something was wrong. Batshit wrong.   
  
He hastily tried to get up. A spike of hot pain surged through his chest. He toppled over again clutching the shirt over his rips. It was the flannel. Just like Clark's. This thought calmed his panicked mind a little.  
  
Instantly there were hands on his shoulder helping him up. He leaned heavily against Clark's warm, comfortable chest to stay upright. The hands were now nervously moving all over his upper body, checking for the cause of Bruce's discomfort.   
  
“Bruce. Bruce! Stay with me. Don't you dare to fall asleep again. Please...stay with me. I should call Leslie. Yeah, I should totally do that. She just left. She is still close by.”  
  
Clark fumbled to his trousers only noticing his sweatpants didn't have pockets and therefore no phone. He looked tensely back to the door and in the living area Bruce could make out. His uncertainty if he should get help or stay with Bruce showed. Bruce took the decision out of his hands by curling his fingers into the loose fabric of Clark's T-Shirt. The pain had mostly vanished so he should be fine.  
  
 _Leslie?_ _So he hurt bad enough to need a doctor. How had this happened? Joker? Scarecrow?_ Maybe even Bane. Oh! If Clark knew about Leslie and he wasn't in a hospital he probably also knew about Batman. _How had he messed up so badly to let him find out about it?_ He had planned to tell Clark at some point. Some point in the future when he was sure there would be no negative consequence. A point he would have been able to remember.   
  
He was just about to ask what had happened and why he didn't have any recollection of some event which must have happened. And most of all what was wrong with Clark being such a mother-hen patting him over again and not even wanting to leave to get to his phone.  
  
But then in a rush, it all came back to him. Him fighting Clark, Doomsday, his death. _How was he still here?_ He pushed Clark's hands away roughly and ripped the flannel open, buttons flying everywhere. He didn't care he ruined Clark's clothes to busy starring in shock at his chest. Nothing. Just nothing. No gruesome wound or bandages. Not even a scar. Only pink healing skin was a deathly wound should be. But this was not the only scar missing. There were none. Not a single one. They were all gone.   
  
The one from the time one of Jokers henchmen got him with a knife near his hips, the one where a lucky shot came through his armor and the one where he had hurt himself while training. And so many more littering his body after years of fighting. All gone. Nothing left but perfect skin.  
  
He looked at Clark with big shocked eyes. This was wrong. So wrong. He should not have survived at all. Much less this. He moved his arm testing. The shoulder which had given him trouble for the past months after dislocating it one time too many felt fine. More than fine actually. It felt good, smoother than it should be after all the stains it endured over the years. It felt like back in the days when he was still in his prime.  
  
“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME?”  
  
He didn't mean to be so angry. But this situation was completely out of his control and not knowing what was going on made him feel vulnerable. And he channeled all this uncertainty into fury. Like he always had. Like he knew how to do. Rage was easier.  
  
Clark swallowed and avoided eye contact. This made Bruce panic even more. _What had happened, that was so bad he needed to avoid eye contact?_ Even when he had revealed his identity he had looked Bruce straight in the eyes. Even with Bruce wanting to kill him his gaze had never wavered. _What had he become for Clark to despise him?_  
  
He grabbed Clark's shoulder way to tightly and Clark winced. Bruce let go instantly and starred in shock at his hand and at Superman's pained face. _How had he been able to hurt Superman?_ _He was human after all, wasn't he?_  
  
He skittered back. His back hit the headboard and he curled against it not trusting himself to be close to Clark. He had hurt him again. _Was the Kryptonite bulled still inside Bruce and caused this or was he strong enough to hurt Superman?_ Both options were unfavorable. Until he had some sort of reassurance he would

stay away.  
  
His plan was foiled by strong arms capturing him and guiding him back to Clark's chest. It calmed him down a bit to hear the heartbeat. It felt safe. Clark was okay.  
  
“It is nothing. Not all of my powers have not returned since...Doomsday. And the ones I have a rather unstable. It's fine though. It happened before. I didn't have any powers when we meet. So it is just like back then. They will come back eventually. Or not but it doesn't matter”  
  
Bruce just nodded faced with this information. So it was not his fault. He was still human. _Maybe this was just a thing Superman did after fight's to recover?_ His research had never indicated something like this but his information had been lacking. It would be no wonder if he missed is just like he had missed Superman being a good guy. Maybe Superman just became human temporally.   
  
“How are you feeling, Bruce? Do you need Leslie? She said you are physically fine. In better condition then the last few years she treated you. So she could not really do much besides checking your vitals but I can still call her. She will be pleased to hear you woke up.”  
  
Then he paused. Long enough for an uneasy feeling too from in Bruce's chest.  
  
“Is something different than before? Strange?”  
  
This didn't sound reassuring. All alarm bells in Bruce's head were ringing. It was as if Clark expected there to be something wrong with him. As if he expected Bruce to suddenly turn...into something. But he felt fine. Maybe the problem laid with him feeling to fine actually.  
  
“I'm still alive when I should be dead, my scars are all gone and my shoulder is healed. No, I'm not fine. Not till I knew why. So tell me what happened. Now! What is wrong with my body. Why are you looking at me like this.”  
  
He waved his arms around to strengthen his point. As if he could make Clark understand his misery if he just gestured enough. And Clark became stiff and a slight tremor ran through his body. Bruce regretted pushing him like this but he needed answers. He could always apologize later. Assuming this condition of being alive was permanent and he would not just drop dead the next minute.  
  
“You remember the fight with Doomsday and Luthor?”  
  
Bruce just nodded not wanting to be stalled any longer.  
  
“The wound was bad. R-really bad. You were dying. And then...you were d-death. Real death. Lois...Lois didn't get help in time. When she arrived you had already passed on. I had lost you...”  
  
Clark's voice broke and Bruce felt some wetness on his neck. Clark's breathing had gotten ragged faced with the memory's of Bruce's demise. Bruce circled his arms around Clark, spending comfort and waited until the man calmed down enough to continue.  
  
“I was devastated. They told me...told me they could not do anything for you anymore. The police arrived and arrested Luthor. But it didn't help. I-It didn't bring you back. I just sat there. Y-you still in my arms, death. They wanted to take you. But I wouldn't let you go. I could not. I...I protected you. They were not allowed to find out who you are. T-they would hurt Alfred. I just... Lois had put the cowl back on before...She is the only one who knows.”  
  
This eased Bruce's mind a little. Even if his secret identity was not his highest priority at the moment it was good to know it was still safe. Miss Lane could keep a secret. She had kept Clark's long enough to be trusted. To some extent at least. Alfred was safe for now. _How could he not have thought about Alfred?_ Even if this were special circumstances, he should have asked after his father figure.   
  
“So I kinda took your cor...body. I took your body and ran. The lead lining of your suit blocked the Kryptonite enough so my power wasn't erased by it. The rush of emotion let me regain a small amount of power. Not enough to get you home. Or here. So I got to the ship to hide. And it recognized me. Kinda. It helped me. I don't really know how but I had this feeling. Had to do certain things. And I had nothing more to lose so I did it. You woke up. Kinda. Not really. You were breathing, had a heartbeat but you wouldn't open your eyes. I begged...I pleaded. B-But you wouldn't...”  
  
“How long?”  
  
The threat was back in Bruce's mind. A coma would explain why Clark looked so different. Depending on how long he slept so much could have happened. Gotham could have fallen without him protecting it.  
  
“Almost 4 months next week. There was nothing wrong with your body you just wouldn't wake. Nobody could help. So I took you home to Gotham. Alfred stayed with you a few weeks but when there was no change in your condition I could persuade him to visit his family. He will be back end of the week. Or I could call. He will instantly take the next flight back.”  
  
Bruce nodded he was happy Alfred finally got to see his family again. He had put it off for way to long. No need to call the visit short. But he would call later and update Alfred about his condition. He focused at Clark again.  
  
“You brought me back. How?”  
  
This question made Clark tense again after Bruce had managed to relax him a bit. Clark really wanted to avoid a detailed report on what had happened on the ship. But Bruce would not drop the matter.  
  
“I'm so sorry Bruce. I knew...I shouldn't have. I shouldn't even have thought about it. I knew you wouldn't be consent. But...But I had the option. And...I was desperate. You were gone. Just gone...and I didn't want... I just couldn't. I'm so sorry.”  
  
“What have you done? What have you done! Answer me, CLARK!”  
  
There was silence for some time only broken by Clark's sobbing and whimpers. Bruce hadn't let go of Clark. He was angry, sure. Very angry at Clark for doing something he would never approve off when he was alive. But Clark was right, he had been dead and could not make a decision on his own and whatever had been done to him had worked. He was dead. So, for now, he held on to Clark reassuringly and braced himself for the truth. He could always get furious if this truth was something unbearable. There were fates worse than death like the Lazarus Pit and he could just hope his was not one of them.  
  
“Clark I'm not angry at you. You had a choice and so you made the call. I just... just have to know. I can't stand uncertainty. I need to figure out what do from now on”  
  
“I used the ship. I didn't really know at the time but I did some research, got the ship to work enough to get some data. I had to make sure your condition was permanent and you wouldn't just... Anyway, I found out Luthor used a pool called Genesis Chamber. He used Zod's body and his own DNA in an experiment. Luthor's DNA was not compatible with Zod's and instead of healing Zod a Doomsday was created. I didn't know the risk at the time otherwise I wouldn't... I'm so sorry. I would never have used the chamber if I...”  
  
Bruce stiffened and looked at Clark. The man had a haunted look on his face. His eyes glossed over. To be brought back the same way Doomsday was born was a bad sign. If something went wrong he could have ended up as a monster. No wonder Clark was so caught up in memories.  
  
“I just followed the orders of the ship. Luthor had done some research on what do but I just did as told. I got in a pool with you and dunked you in the water. The next step was getting some of my gene material into the water. With my powers mostly drained I could just make a cut for some blood. The ship had enough sharp pieces laying around after the crash. Then I activated the process.”  
  
Clark paused here and took some breaks. Clearly pained by what he had told Bruce.  
  
“The water started glowing, there was a lot of energy and lightning and I almost passed out holding you under the surface. And then it was over. It had healed you, brought you back. The ship had used a lot of resources to activate the chamber twice so it shut down for the time being. You weren't responding and I thought something must have gone wrong. That it had only brought your body back. I thought all of it had been for nothing. That I broke your trust but failed nonetheless. I'm sorry. I should never have made a decision like this. I had no right to change you.”  
  
“So...I'm Kryptonian now?”  
  
It was hard to wrap his mind around it. But Bruce was curious. He didn't feel like a powerful alien, but what did he know. Maybe gods just felt like they had the worst hangover after being brought back to life. And he hadn't changed into a monster at least not yet so this was a positive development. But even with alien technology involved and Superman's DNA, it shouldn't it be so easy to change to a completely different race. Doomsday was proof something like this was a rather delicate affair. Plus Clark powers had been drained and it was hard to tell how Clark's exposure to Kryptonite or even the Kryptonite in Bruce's chest had affected the progress.  
  
“I don't know. I..I r-really don't know. It could be nothing. Maybe my genes just vanished after they healed you. You could still be human.”  
  
At least Clark hoped so. There was silence between them. Bruce had to think about this. Come up with theories and tests. Make plans.  
  
“P-please don't...don't hate me. I...I don't want to lose you...again. I can't be...without you there is nothing. Please, Bruce.”  
  
Bruce really needed some time alone. Being changed like this without having a say in the matter, rubbed him the wrong way. But this was Clark. Clark would never deliberately do something to hurt Bruce. He had acted on best intention. And it had saved Bruce's life. Even though they didn't know yet what consequences his actions would have.   
  
So Bruce was surprisingly not angry at all. Annoyed and confused yes, but not angry. He was just happy to have Clark here with him. To not be alone anymore. When his memory's returned he didn't only remember the fight, pain, sadness, and betrayal he also remembered how Clark had held him stayed with him till the end and he also remembered Clark's

confession. How loved he had felt.  
  
He still could not believe Clark, a man with all options available to him, would choose Bruce. Especially after he had pinned after Lois so long. But it was true. And it made Bruce happy to finally have someone again. He still didn't really knew what their relationship was with him dying before they figured it out. Bruce had confessed back and he was here clearly at Clark's apartment with the other man watching over him. _This had to mean something, right?_  
  
But it was Clark. The guy to kind for his own good. The guy, willing to do anything for a stranger if they ask for help. Clark would bend over backward if it helped people. So it was kinda hard to tell what this really meant. It was also a valid option he was only here because Clark wanted Alfred to visit his family without worries.   
  
He leaned back a bit and Clark still desperately clinging to him let him go. Reluctant but his arms slipped from Bruce's back. He still looked like a kicked puppy with his big watery eyes. _How could a man of his size and powers like no one else pull up such a face without looking ridiculous?_ He took both of Clark's hand in his and instantly Clark's rant of apologizes stopped. Bruce started kissing one of Clark's hands. Softly trailing kissed over the palm and finger's until Clark relaxed. He left the hand at his cheek and looked seriously at Clark.  
  
“Clark Jonathan Kent, I knew you have been through a lot, the past two year's since Zod and this is far from the perfect time and situation. But I can't wait any longer. Not with what has happened and the possibility of losing you still freshly burned in my mind. Clark, would you do me the honor of engaging in a relationship with me?”  
  
He held his breath will waiting for an answer. This was as worse as waiting at the courthouse for the judge to decide if he would sign the adoption paper for Jason or not. He walked on a small line between happiness and devastation and he could do nothing to influence the decision. He knew the odds were in his favor but emotions were a concept he still often failed to grasp. He just had to wait.   
  
“You still want to? After all, that happened? The thing I've done?”  
  
Bruce just nodded his throat to thigh to speak. Nothing Clark could do would change his answer. His feelings on the matter were clear.   
  
He got dragged forward by the hands still intertwined with Clark's. Chapped lips pressed at his chase and a bit too rough. It was perfect. This was all Bruce had wanted since he had first laid eyes on Clark. Warm arms looped around him and he cradled Clark's face in his hand's. He didn't want to let go but for Clark losing his power also apparently meant he needed to breathe. And he had no special Bat training in holding his breaths for minutes. So they reluctantly parted breathing heavily. They still stayed close to each other feeling each other warm around him.  
  
“We should get you some food, Clark. You look like a small breeze could blow you over. You are terrible at taking care of yourself”  
  
“And this from the man getting himself into a coma for months. How comes you haven't lost any weight or your six-pack? That's kinda unfair.”  
  
“My good looks are my Superpower”  
  
Bruce chuckled and got out of bed. He was feeling a bit dizzy for a few seconds and needed to lean on Clark till he was safe on his feet again. The kitchen was not far but it had exhausted Bruce and he sunk on a chair. He wished he could make something to eat but he would just collapse halfway through.   
  
But Clark started to open drawers and cabinets pulling out equipment and ingredient. He was good at cooking and even sleep depreciated he could make simple meals for Bruce and himself. He just hadn't really bothered with coking in the last few months. With Bruce in a coma, he had other things on his mind than cooking. He also didn't really felt like leaving Bruce alone and getting groceries. The ingredients were a present from Leslie so she would not have to patients to worry about. And interacting with people to order it had at some point gotten to much trouble for Clark. So he had just stopped eating most of the times. He didn't felt like he could keep things down beside fruits and toast.  
  
Bruce frowned while Clark beat some eggs, feeling like having breakfast despite it being late afternoon.   
  
“What about Gotham?”  
  
“It is not great with you gone. But Nightwing came back from Bludhaven and took over patrol and Oracle is helping him. They keep the criminals at bay for now. I didn't really meet their hero identity yet but Alfred kept me in the loop. You have a great family. I meet them as Clark Kent in as civilians and they were really nice, but a bit wary. They didn't believe at first I was your boyfriend. Ähm... that was something Alfred and I came up with to explain me always being at your site. I guess it is true now. Alfred did a lot of convincing to let you stay at my place in Metropolis. Dick and Barbara already had their hand full with Wayne Enterprise, keeping Gotham safe and the press at bay. Everyone thinks you had some sports accident you need to recover from.”  
  
Clark's phone on the table chimed at this moment and Clark turned down the heat to look at it.  
  
“Oh, Alfred just texted me he is on his way back. He has booked a flight and will be here around tomorrow evening. He wanted to come home a bit earlier to check in on you. I swear this man has some form of a sixth sense. He will be so excited to see you again”  
  
Clark put his phone back at the table and put the food on plates. It was nothing special just pancakes with bacon but Clark suddenly felt like eating again.  
  
“So, about the rest of the family? Should I call them? They are very worried. At first, they were there at the manor every day until I took you home. I mean my home. Well...I-it could be yours too...if you want to. I would like it. Having you here. Ähm...Dick and Babara are still visiting whenever their schedule allows it, especially at the weekends. So they will find out sooner or later if you call or not.”  
  
Bruce thought for a bit.  
  
“I think I will take you up on the offer. Living here I mean. I like the company. And calling them...doesn't sound too bad.  
  
Clark smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very thankful for all the support I got. All the kudos and especially the comments the kept me motivated to keep working on this fic. And I'm really glad so many people liked the thing I wrote.
> 
> I'm also very thankful for catty helping me out with the fic. She and the other people in the Superbat discord server not only motivated me to try writing a fanfic in english but also helped me with sprints and advise.


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